


A is A: Operation: HIGHER EDUCATION

by Flyboy254



Series: A Is A [18]
Category: Fairy Tail, Stargate SG-1, Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyboy254/pseuds/Flyboy254
Summary: Team Rainbow is sent to face a terrorist attack in the middle of Boston, and winds up dealing with a new world of problems. Several worlds, actually.





	1. Prologue: Like Any Other Day

**Operation: HIGHER EDUCATION**

* * *

Catherine smiled as she finished her paper, saving the file on the computer and yanking the flash drive with twenty to spare before her next class. Grabbing her phone, she saw that Sigma Theta Tau had just sent a text to her and her fellow pledges.

 

“SISTERS! All of you get ready, tonight is your final night! By tomorrow, you’ll all be proud members of the SIGMA THETA TAU sorority! Which means tomorrow night we’re gonna party so hard you’ll forget which way’s up!”

 

The grin on Catherine’s face was wide as she hurried down the steps of the library, the sounds of Harvard Yard drifting through the Autumn air. It was early October, and as much as she played it off she wasn’t afraid to admit she was living up to the title of “basic white girl”: Phone firmly in one hand, pumpkin-spice latte in the other, yoga pants firmly on and a Harvard sweatshirt pulled over. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail, bouncing as she came to the bottom of the steps. Pulling her eyes up from her phone she looked up to the yard.

 

Her smiled disappeared.

 

Men in white hazmat suits stalked the green grass, and that’s when the screams of her fellow students hit her ears. Two of the men were working on two machines with gas tanks inside, the devices spewing a sickly-yellow mist into the air. In the distance there was gunfire, louder and even sharper than in the movies. Students and faculty were fleeing in every direction, some hacking and falling as the yellow gas started to subsume everything-

 

Catherine felt herself get pulled back, straight into the library and thrown into the building. An older male voice started to give orders. “Get those windows closed and seal the vents! Teal’c, keep and eye on the door and don’t let anyone get inside!”

 

Catherine looked around and saw that the students and staff already in the library were congregating at the door, talking in frightened tones to each other as the library doors slammed shut. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped and turning to find a source Catherine saw the windows suddenly being covered in ice from nowhere. Nothing made sense, life suddenly had decided to throw Catherine’s life so far sideways it was in unrecognizable territory.

 

A man in a green ballcap and carrying a pistol pointed to the upper floors. “Get those too Gray, c’mon we can’t let that gas in here!” Catherine pulled herself up using the nearest desk, steadying her body as she watched the older man keep issuing orders. “Erza, don’t you have an armor that can go out there?”

 

“I’m not sure I do,” Erza said flatly. “Even if I did, the men out there will probably start shooting and force me to focus my attention away from clearing the air.”

 

Catherine saw others moving around the library, closing up vents and carrying weapons. “What…What’s going on? Who are you people?”

 

The man in the ballcap looked over to Catherine and shrugged. “You want the lie or the truth?”


	2. Chapter 1: The Watch

**Chapter 1: The Watch**

* * *

“Slow night.”

 

Eliza Cohen pulled her head up from her work to see Elias Kötz walk in to the canteen. “Not that I’m complaining, after all I’d rather use the time to catch up on my WoW grinding.”

 

Cohen rolled her eyes, reaching out for her water bottle next to her laptop. “I thought Six told you that those high-end laptops we were given were for expressly related matters to our current assignment.”

 

“I do use it for work,” Kötz said, chuckling as he opened the fridge. “I just like to have a little fun too. Aw, now who buys skim milk?”

 

Eliza was about to start toying with the man when Jordan Trace burst into the small canteen. “Both of you, we’ve got a job, now.”

 

Both operators sprung from the canteen and followed Jordan to the situation room. They passed the old faded murals on the walls of the hallways, of the winged blade above which was written, “Who Dares Wins”.

 

The situation room was really just a conference room, a long and cheap plastic table with discount office chairs around it. There were two wall-mounted TVs in the corners of the room, and a projector connected to a desktop above the table pointing at the white far wall. It could have been any number of rooms in any hundreds of thousands of small offices or businesses.

 

It was the people currently inside that room which made it special.

 

FBI Special Agent Eliza “Ash” Cohen went straight for SAS commando Capt. Seamus “Sledge” Cowden. “What’s happening?”

 

Cowden just kept staring at the TVs, tuned to CNN and currently showing a police cordon. “Something’s happened at Harvard University, they’ve been reporting men in white hazmat suits running around with rifles and yellow gas.”

 

Cohen watched the screen carefully. Fire engines and police cars rushed in and out of the cordon, the press kept back with force where some hotshot reporter thought he could rush past to get some big exclusive for his network. Becky Anderson tried to keep her reporting clear and free of sensationalism, but someone had managed to get video of the incident and so the network kept replaying it interspersed between the “expert analysts”.

 

It was of two couples, one man and woman and the other two men, talking on the green when the phone shook and turned to see a wedge of five men stalking forward in hazmat suits carrying light machine guns. The weapons fired, and the cameraman and his friends began to run for their lives along with others in the background. One of the men collapsed, and his partner desperately tried to pull them up when another burst of gunfire cut down him and the cameraman. The woman kept running before the footage cut out, ready to loop against later for the media’s pound of flesh.

 

Gendarme Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon looked up from the room’s computer. “She’s calling, putting it on the projector.”

 

The twenty operators watched at the image of their six took up the back wall. As always her face was placid, but it wasn’t hard for their trained eyes to see the rage boiling beneath each word spoken. “ _Agents, we have an active situation. The nature of this threat requires an overwhelming response._ ”

 

“ _By now you’ve found out that one of the foremost institutions of learning in the world is under siege. This is more than an attack on American soil, it is an attack on our future. We know that all first responders have gone silent._ ”

 

“ _We’ve confirmed numerous casualties due to the release of an as-yet unidentified biochemical weapon. This newly assembled Rainbow Team faces a trial by fire against an unknown number of terrorist combatants. You are to be inserted directly into the hot zone. We will have decon crews on standby._ ”

 

“ _Your orders are to eliminate the threat, and rescue any survivors you may find._ ”

 

Six’s eyes hardened. “ _This is why Rainbow was reactivated. This is what you all have trained for. Your time is now._ ”

 

Everyone took a moment to soak in the words before the questions began with Cowden. “Departure ma’am?”

 

“ _A half hour after this call ceases. You’ll leave from Hereford directly for Boston, US Army CBRN crews will be there to outfit you for the operation. Eliza, you’ll mover for the campus and act as liaison with the Federal presence there. Capt. Cowden, I want you to select the team composition for this operation. Given the nature of this threat, I want all of Rainbow present on the scene. I’ve cleared this with the Secretary-General and Pres. Fairfield, both want Rainbow present in case an unknown variable arrives in the area._ ”

 

Special agent Jack “Pulse” Estrada spoke up. “Rough estimate of hostile numbers?”

 

“ _Best estimates are roughly fifty to sixty armed hostiles roving the campus,_ ” Six said. “ _They’ve deployed an improvised dispersal system for their biochemical weapon, we need to clear the path for specialists to fully deactivate these dispersal means if we want to secure the campus._ ”

 

Senior Lieutenant Timur “Glaz” Glazkov was next. “Arms and equipment?”

 

“ _The enemy was last reported utilizing small arms, but given our previous encounters we can safely presume there are combatants utilizing explosive vests and other IEDs._ ”

 

Cowden went again. “Operational cover ma’am?”

 

“ _FBI has already cleared you as HRT, clearances have already been given by the president, attorney general, and joint chiefs. I’ll speak with you all in Boston. Six out._ ”

 

As the projector went dark Cowden turned to the team. “Alright, you heard Six. I want all of you secured and on that plane in twenty, if you don’t need it don’t bring it.”

 

The operators moved, grabbing their kits and hurrying through the base. The flight would go fast, and the team would be keeping their eyes latched to the news and any new information brought up by the US authorities. That was speaking for the other national teams though.

 

The FBI special agents were concealing their emotions pretty well, but it was clear they weren’t going to treat this as a typical counter-terror situation. Before the bastards had hit small targets, slipping across borders and past authorities like ghosts, like it was a mocking game for them to carry out their plans. This was hundreds of victims, students who probably didn’t even know what these people were or what they were being killed for.

 

Not that Rainbow knew any more than those same dead students.

 

Heavy boots stormed through the facility, past the “kill house” to the air strip. A Gulfstream was waiting, two RAF pilots standing ready as an air crew finished the last steps to make the plane ready to fly. “Wheels up in five people,” Cowden barked, his Scottish brogue carrying as the team ran up the steps into the cabin. “Flight time?”

 

“We’ll try to cut it down to six hours captain,” the pilot said, the copilot moving into the cockpit to warm up the systems. “Best we can do sir, unless you want us to rip the airframe apart.”

 

Cowden nodded, walking into the cabin and settling in. Taking out his personal tablet, he connected to the plane’s wifi and linked with Rainbow’s server farm. Practically all of Rainbow was doing the same, even Warrant Officer 2 Mike “Thatcher” Baker, for all his loathing of technology. No one would give him any guff about it though, not when they knew he could still wrap them up with their own limbs on the practice mat.

 

“Well no one’s come out for about an hour,” Cowden said quietly. “Problem is those sprayers are turning the area into a fog, visibility’s pathetic and we’ll have to be cautious of civilians that might have survived. Porter, Weiss, you’ll need to take point on this. Glazkov, can your scope operate through that yellow fog?”

 

“Won’t be a problem.”

 

Cowden nodded, tapping at a list of names on his tablet. “ _Two left. They’ll probably have barricaded themselves in the classrooms and buildings._ ” He turned to Estrada. “You and I will be the last two. Cohen, you’ll interface with the local and federal authorities, make sure we have a firm ground to start from. The rest of you take positions on the perimeter, don’t let any of these bastards try to slip past us. No one leaves unless we let them. Doc, I want you to find out what this agent is, give us whatever you can when you find it. Study up people, we don't have time to not know anything.”

 

The flight was then spent handling the minutia of planning such an operation. Weapon and ammunition requests, campus maps and building plans. Interfacing with Federal, state, local law enforcement as well as FEMA, CDC, and nearly every department in the state of Massachusetts. Things that, while vital to the success or failure of such an operation, can take so long that by the time the flight landed everything had barely been straightened out for the plan to proceed.

 

Cohen nodded as she hurried down the ramp of the Gulfstream, phone latched to her ear. “Yes sir, yes we’ll make sure. Thank you.” Groaning, she followed the team to the five waiting SUVs idling on the tarmac. “I swear, it’s like the Bulger family still runs this place.”

 

“Hey, least it ain’t as bad as that when we had to run that hostage op in Hollywood Hills,” Jordan “Thermite” Trace said, grinning as he threw his bag into the SUV. “That guy was a real fucking Dwayne T. Robinson.”

 

Miles “Castle” Campbell shook his head. “Are you ever gonna let that one go? He was angry at what you did to the house man, not that you made the save.”

 

Trace waved the comment away. “Says you, he wasn’t in your face screaming at you about property damage. They wanted the door breached, I got the door breached. It’s not my fault that the home was a lease.”

 

The SUVs rolled off the tarmac, speeding fifteen of the twenty Rainbow agents from Boston Logan to Harvard campus. The roads had been cleared thank God, the team speeding through the notorious Boston roads and streets to rush for the campus and the massive police and fire cordon around it. Uniformed officers and SWAT teams rushed by firefighters and HAZMAT response teams, all stealing glances toward the sickly haze of yellow smoke hanging like a pall inside the campus gates.

 

“ _They did their research,_ ” Cohen thought, watching as every TV camera that could be was pointed at the smoke. “ _They knew exactly how far the gas would disperse when properly placed. Now the whole world knows that they own the campus._ ”

 

Trace decided to echo her thoughts. “Guys are putting on a show, that’s for sure.”

 

Cohen ignored the comment and led the way through the line of responders, straight for a converted RV with the words “FBI MOBILE COMMAND CENTER” stenciled on the side. Rainbow stood outside, making space for the people currently doing their jobs as Cohen stepped inside.

 

The space was both spacious and cramped, an improvement from the old vans and trucks that used to be mobile situation commands. Despite the larger space, the sides of the van were filled with electronic equipment from screens to radio systems and agents doing their jobs inside. Cohen could only pick out bit and pieces of the chatter, words and names and situation reports bouncing around inside like a super balls hyped up on crack.

 

One of the people inside was a particularly harried-looking man with a graying hairline and a rumpled shirt with a bulletproof vest that had FBI written in bold yellow letters on the front. He rushed from console to console, phone attached to his ear; his arm just kept it from tugging on the side of his head. “Yes sir, I’m looking at the news right now…Yes, on all the major networks…No sir, we can’t confirm that rumor being displayed on Fox…Exactly sir, just a rumor…” The man looked up to see Cohen standing there waiting for him to finish. “Sir, I need to call you back.” The shocked voice on the other end of the call was cut off as the man shook his head and shoved his phone in his pocket. “I’ve got the FBI, DoD, DoJ, state governor, _and_ a few hundred parents all trying to talk to me. Tell me you’re here to make my life easier.”

 

Cohen nodded. “Agent Garfield, I’m part of the team that’s been brought in to help deal with the situation. Eliza Cohen, you spoke to my superiors earlier.”

 

“I did, and I’m glad to have you.” Garfield motioned for Cohen to one of the screens, and Cohen saw a small map of the campus pop up as the ragged-looking agent-in-charge tapped on the center of the screen. “They got in with the deliveries that come onto the campus every day, we’re tracing the delivery companies right now but this fucking mess has us all scrambling.”

 

Cohen nodded, she’d seen the same map already on the flight over when they were planning for the insertion. “We have a team ready to helicopter in, the rest of us can take positions around the perimeter and hold in case any of them try to escape.”

 

“Back up, what’s this about a helicopter insertion?”

 

Cohen tapped on the green. “This is the most spacious area available to us, we’ll insert a five-man team into the green and move from there through the immediate area. Once we secure that area and cut off those dispersal systems we can move from there.”

 

Garfield let out a long and slow breath, shaking his head as he rolled over the plan in his own mind. “They aren’t just using pop guns down there. First units on the scene had their cars chewed up by machine guns, and anyone who breathes that gas is down for the count.”

 

Cohen nodded, taking in Garfield’s words but knowing that the plan was tactically sound. “Hence the offer for manning the perimeter. We can’t go in, but we can remind these people that we’re here. We also have an experienced field surgeon, he'd like to get a look at anyone who made it out of the gas alive.”

 

Garfield nodded, for now satisfied that someone else could take the heat for him and hopefully get some intelligence from inside the campus. “I want to get the same updates you do, if something goes haywire I want to get your people out of there before they get killed.”

 

Cohen smiled as she pulled out an ear piece and radio out of her pack. “We’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Alright, team, standby for positions and assignments.”

* * *

Catherine watched the man with the ballcap pace the windows, futilely trying to polish off the ice. “Dammit Gray, can’t you make this stuff clear?”

 

The younger man in the group threw up his hands in frustration. “C’mon colonel, you want me to take it away and let that crazy gas in here?”

 

The “Colonel” shrugged, trying again to peer through the wall of ice. “What do you think Carter, bio-terror?”

 

“Most likely sir,” the older woman in the group said, finishing up treating a student that had taken a gunshot wound to the arm. “If I had to guess they’re using at least a dozen main aerosol dispersal systems along with smaller canisters carried on their person.”

 

The Colonel seemed to deflate a little. “Well it wouldn’t matter even if they ran out, odds are that stuff’s persistent.”

 

“Who are you freaks?!”

 

Everyone turned to see a student staring at Colonel with wild eyes, Catherine thought he’d probably have gone into shock if he hadn’t started shouting. “You just, you did all this! How’d you do this shit? Where the hell did this ice come from?”

 

Colonel gave a wide grin. “Well you’re more than welcome to go outside if you don’t like it in here.” The student quickly went back to sitting down.

 

The large black man stepped over. “Perhaps I may be able to scout outside O’Neill?”

 

The now-named O’Neill shook his head. “No dice, we don’t know what that stuff is. For all we know it could do so much damage that Junior won’t be able to keep up with it.” Shaking his head, O’Neill turned to one of the windows and pulled out a radio. “Anyone on this frequency, you have survivors holed up in the…” O’Neill turned to Catherine. “What’s the name of this place again?”

 

Catherine shook herself and answered, “Uh, Widener, Widener Library.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “You’ve got survivors holed up in Widener Library, we can make it for a while but we might run out of air after a few more hours. If anyone’s hearing this respond, over.”

* * *

One of the agents manning the consoles looked up. “Sir, I have something here.”

 

Garfield and Cohen moved close as the agent put what they were hearing on the speaker. “ _- Say again, survivors are inside Widener Library, we’re good but we could use some breathing room. Literally._”

Garfield grabbed for a mic. “Hostage demands?”

 

The agent shook his head. “No sir, he just came over now and hasn’t said anything else.”

 

Nodding, Garfield keyed the mic and said, “To whoever’s broadcasting, this is FBI special agent Devon Garfield, how many survivors are inside the library right now?”

 

A pause. “ _I’d say you’ve got about twenty, twenty-five where we’re holed up. We managed to seal off a section right as this started. Much as I’d like to spend the time catching up on my reading, we’ve probably only got a few hours worth of air in here so we’d appreciate it if you could get us out before we become part of the med school curriculum here._ ”

 

Garfield stared at the radio, making sure he heard what he had before getting back. “Uh, understood. Do you, do you have a name sir?”

  
“ _Jack,_ ” was all the man said. “ _Listen, some of these kids are looking pretty worn, make sure you’ve people waiting for them when you get us outta here._ ”

 

Cohen listened as the conversation carried on. Something about the man’s words and tone screamed “professional”, but he wasn’t making any demands and sounded almost like he’d helped save the survivors inside the library. There was concern in his voice, but not panic. He was too calm to be just some random survivor that had gotten lucky. “Ask him where he found the radio.”

 

Garfield nodded. “Jack, how’d you get your hand on a radio during all this?”

 

“ _Dead campus cop, managed to pull it off him before we got inside._ ”

 

“He’s lying.” Cohen motioned to take the radio, and Garfield handed it over without argument. “Jack, this is special agent Cohen, we’ll be sending a team in to the Old Yard. Tell everyone with you to just hold tight, we are going to get all of you out unharmed.”

 

“ _That’s fine, just grab us some food too. Jack out._ ”

 

Cohen handed the mic back and shook her head. “He’s not with us, but he’s definitely not White Mask.”

 

Garfield scoffed. “What, so we’ve got some kind of vigilante agent running around _just_ on the day of a major terrorist attack?” Garfield blinked, and glared over to Cohen. “Did you people know this was going to happen?”

 

Cohen’s mind skipped a mental beat but she didn’t react immediately. In her own mind it made sense, there were only coincidences in this job when one side or the other got sloppy. So, if Team Rainbow was getting sloppy? It would come as a shock to her most of all.

 

“I can’t say that this was us, but it’s possible someone else has been trying to track this group and just got caught up in the attack.” Cohen moved to take Garfield’s place at the console. “ _And screwing up royally while they’re at it._ ”

 

Garfield shook his head. “What about these White Masks? No demands, no press release, I mean you don’t commit an attack on this scale and not try to do something with it.”

 

Cohen nodded, but then that was what had made the White Masks so drastically different. And dangerous. Noting the time, she pressed a finger to her earpiece. “That’s what we’re here to find out. Insertion team, we have new information.”


	3. Chapter 2: Fresh Air

**Chapter 2: Fresh Air**

 

Cowden looked down on the campus, at this point a few outlines of old mason and brick buildings encased in a yellow haze. The real trick as that he could see at all in the American “MOPP” gear, a specialized setup specifically for fighting in biohazard situations. A thick, bulky rubber suit, with a built-in air filtration system on the back made up of multiple redundant filters capable of scrubbing the air of any possible trace of airborne contaminants. Better for the team, there were attached mounts for night-vision systems and the locals had already given them the scopes. Even in the afternoon sun, the haze of the gas and the soon-to-be-dark skies made such equipment a necessity.

 

Cowden looked over his team. “The library’s been roughly secured, twenty, twenty-five survivors with seven unknowns according to Ash. Primary mission remains unchanged, secure the immediate area and eliminate all enemy combatants.”

 

The team checked their weapons and triple-checked their CBRN gear. Estrada looked out the side of the helo and saw that even with the downdraft from the blades there was still such a massive amount of smoke covering the campus that visibility was going to be a nightmare. “Safe to say Glaz takes point this time?”

 

Cowden nodded. “As long as we disable the majority of the spray systems, we should be able to begin retaking the campus.”

 

James “Smoke” Porter radioed to the command post. “Doc, what are the symptoms?”

 

Gustave “Doc” Kateb replied after a few seconds, the background of his transmission filled with noise and action of both a hospital emergency room and police station after a riot. “ _No blisters or lesions on any affected by the gas, safely rules out blister agents. Victims show no sign of traditional nerve agent responses. The doctors here agree that this is most certainly a blood agent._ ”

 

Porter cursed. “Bastards. They just wanted to scare’em all over the news.”

 

“ _Unfortunately, this agent works far more quickly than I’ve studied before. If this is a kind of enhanced product, you cannot afford to have your seals break even once. I can’t guarantee that you’ll last even one minute before you’re overcome by the effects. If you find any other survivors, ensure that they do not leave their hideout until the area has been secured. We don’t know the persistence of this compound._ ”

 

Porter nodded, watching as the chopper settled into a holding pattern over the yard. “Well Doc, you know the kind of cautious man I am.”

 

The team hooked up, dropping ropes from the side of the helo and rappelling down in their thick CBRN gear. Cowden felt each move of the chopper, turning a single space below into an oasis of green in the deadly mist. He slid down the rope, the impact jarring his legs as he detached from the rope in the center of the four operators covering the area. “Team is clear, helo debark now.” The bird lifted away, moving for a cleared space at Logan where the ropes and airframe could be meticulously scrubbed down before anyone else might be affected.

 

Glazkov had his weapon up, scanning the area with his OTs-03’s specialized scope. “I have three targets to my 10 o’clock, five to my 1 o’clock. All armed, all wearing bulky gear.”

 

Cowden nodded. Motioning, he signaled for the team to take cover behind whatever was available. The five spread out, hunting for cover in the thick yellow pall. Pulse and IQ found themselves behind a shot-up campus cop car, the bodies of two officers laying behind it with their weapons at their sides. Estrada saw that a dust had piled up around a shotgun and several shells. “Smoke, this stuff’s piling up on the ground like fucking snow.”

 

Porter leaned out from behind one of the older trees on campus and ran a hand along the bark. “It’s a crystalline residue. Blood agents don’t last long in the open air, this probably allows it to disperse over time. Clever bastards these ones.”

 

Cowden growled. “Compliment their cleverness later. Glaz, take out the three first, thirty seconds.”

 

Glaz sighted in, watching the trio of men waddle awkwardly through the haze in their bulky hazmat suits. Their weapons couldn’t be discerned, not yet, but it didn’t matter what they carried when a single breach of their suits could end the entire operation in a second. His heart rate slowed, his world became the target. Inhale, exhale, squeeze.

 

The terrorist dropped, his two friends seconds later when they realized that something was wrong. Turning, Glazkov saw the group of five closing on his position. Checking the area the sniper radioed, “Sledge, Smoke, turn left three degrees and open fire.”

 

The two SAS operators did as told, and two more of the terrorists dropped. The three left turned and started firing, but they were felled by the next three rounds in swift execution of justice. Or just because Glazkov didn’t want them to live. “Area is clear. What now?”

 

“IQ, Smoke, find one of those sprayers and shut it off, Glaz will cover you. Pulse, with me to the library. I want to make sure those bastards aren’t trying to break in.” Putting the campus map in his mind’s eye, Cowden turned around and stalked toward the library with Estrada in tow.

 

Stalking through the haze, Cowden kept sweeping left to right with his rifle up. He kept to the grass, no reason to tromp over the concrete and make enough noise to give away his position. Estrada kept to the rear, covering Cowden’s flank and rear from ambush. Even then, how they expected their own enemy to fight in these conditions when they could barely see was beyond-

 

“I can’t break it open.”

 

Cowden held up a fist and the two men froze, mid-step in Cowden’s case. “No, I mean it will not open! We can use the explosives but that will give away our position, Rainbow’s already here like you said.”

 

Cowden marked the words. Someone knew they were here. Someone had talked. Someone had told the world’s terrorists that Rainbow was a reality and not a terrorist boogeyman. Cowden was going to make that someone pay very painfully for this.

 

“I told you, we don’t know what happened. We thought they were cops, but one of them made the windows solid ice. No, I’m not fucking with you, the windows are fucking blocked by ice on both floors.” Cowden and Estrada looked to each other for some kind of answer. Ice? Ice from where? Sure it was New England, but it couldn’t have been that cold already in the colonies.

 

Closing through the gas, the two operators saw four enemy contacts, one of them placing charges on the main door of the library. Two covered him as the fourth spoke into a cheap burner phone. “Look, we know Rainbow’s not gonna waste fucking time. We just heard the chopper and gunfire, if you want everyone here dead then you’re gonna have to tell us why the fuck there’s Goddamn ice blocking the library.”

 

Cowden pointed to Estrada and then to the two on the right. Estrada nodded and leveled his weapon. Cowden did the same and waited.

 

“Yes, I know that this one’s important. No, no! Listen you bastard, we’ve done _everything_ you told us! You never told us that Rainbow would be on-site before we even started this party.”

 

Cowden reran the statement again. “ _On-site? They think they’re Rainbow inside the library?_ ” Another question for later. One of about twenty at least at this point. Nodding, he sighted the target and pulled the trigger. Several rounds later, the four were down.

 

Estrada pulled out his HB-5 sensor, Cowden covering him as he scanned the walls of the library. “Stuff’s pretty heavy, can’t get a read through it. Trying the door.”

 

There was a long silence. “Well?”

 

Estrada suddenly sounded uncertain. “There really is ice behind the door.”

 

Cowden turned and stormed past the columns of the library’s façade to start railing about the terrorists being crazy when he saw it too. A pillar of ice somehow placed behind the main doors of the library. “What in God’s name is this?”

 

“I’m getting a heartbeat,” Estrada said, watching as a signal appeared on his monitor. “Three, four, okay there’s at least a dozen in there.”

 

Smoke came over the radio. “ _Sledge, both devices are disabled. Visibility should be clear in two minutes._ ”

 

“Roger, hold position we’ll be there in three.” Sparing another look back at the ice wall, Cowden led the way through the now dissipating mist as the skies began to darken. Soon, gunfire echoed through the campus again as Rainbow began the hunt in earnest.

* * *

O’Neill slept atop one of the tables, cap pulled over his head. The woman, Carter, had been scrolling through Catherine’s phone for hours in silence. Teal’c, he just stared at the ice in front of the door with a harsh glare.

 

“Hey, you alright?”

 

Catherine flinched at the words, and looked up to see the blonde girl, Lucy, kneeling down next to her. “You had a pretty rough day, it’s alright if you decided to get some sleep.”

 

Catherine shook her head. “No, I’m, okay I’m not fine. I never thought those White Mask lunatics would come here. Why would they come here?”

 

O’Neill shook his head. “’Fraid we can’t answer that one kid,” O’Neill said, shrugging as he paced the library. “We just go where they tell us to, guess you all just got lucky we got here when we did.”

 

One of the librarians laughed at the idea. “Lucky? How is any of this lucky? We’re literally trapped in here, we only know what’s going on through our phones, I mean how much longer is our air even gonna last?”

 

O’Neill shrugged, miming checking his watch. “Well if you’re leaving this one to the Boston PD you should be fine, if it’s the FBI we’re hosed.”

 

Lucy scowled at O’Neill. “You’re not exactly helping here colonel.” Shaking her head, Lucy smiled at Catherine. “Don’t worry, I promise that we’ll make sure everyone that came in here gets out of here too.”

 

Catherine didn’t buy it despite the genuine smile. “No, you don’t think the White Masks are really gonna let us just go? This is like what happened back in fucking ’96 when there was that Ebola outbreak.”

 

Daniel finally looked up. “Ebola outbreak? Did I miss something back then?”

 

“Not unless I did too.” O’Neill knelt down to face Catherine. “An Ebola outbreak? What happened?”

 

One of the librarians looked over from the desk they were behind. “You were probably in a coma or something then. There was an outbreak of Ebola in a dozen cities, Pres. Ryan put the nation on lockdown and went after the Iranians for it. Courts struck down a lot of what the president did, but after the Capitol Building was rebuilt Congress was pretty quick to fix a lot of the damage.”

 

O’Neill blinked a few times. “Pres. Ryan?”

 

“He’s telling the truth sir,” Carter said, rushing over with Catherine’s phone still in-hand. “Look, I don’t, I mean this is just…”

 

O’Neill took the phone and stared at the screen. There was a picture of a man with short brown hair and blue eyes. His jaw was square and he wore a confident smile, lines forming on the sides of his face but not deeply enough to reflect old age. Above the picture, a name that O’Neill realized he could work with. “I’m gonna call Cohen.”

* * *

“ _Yoo-hoo, Agent Cohen, I have a few questions for you._ ”

 

Cohen glanced at the radio suspiciously. Up until now, “Jack” had been professional if a touch eccentric. Now the entire tone had changed. “Yes Jack, is something wrong?”

 

“ _Well, seeing as I’ve got a rainbow of problems here that depends on what you can tell me._ ”

 

Cohen’s eyes narrowed, and before Garfield could object she grabbed the mic and pulled it out of the command post, cord stretching as far as it physically could. “Okay Jack, now you have my attention.”

 

“ _Sure hope I do, I made it pretty obvious. So, how’s Pres. Ryan these days, he doing well?_ ”

 

“Mr. Ryan retired to Peregrine Cliff to continue writing his history books. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re suddenly bringing this up Jack? That’s a clever name by the way, I’m kinda sorry I didn’t catch it.”

 

“ _I’m just a clever guy. Well I was wondering if he knew what Ding Chavez did to the Horizon Group when all was said and done. Or did that never make it to Ryan's desk._ ”

 

“ _Horizon Group?_ ” The phrase meant nothing to Cohen, but the relationship between Domingo Chavez and Pres. Ryan was legendary in the intelligence community. And no one called Domingo Chavez “Ding” unless they were closer than most brothers. “Of course he did Jack, you know that Chavez would never hide anything from Ryan.”

 

The response was mocking in tone. “ _Oh, I don’t think Jacky-boy knows what Ding pulled in South America. From the sounds of it, neither do you._ ”

 

Cohen processed everything and was still coming up empty. Rainbow’s inaugural missions were conducted against an umbrella organization known by the name “Horizon”, but the files noted the group had gone deep and probably dissolved internally after Rainbow found their compound alight in Brazil. John Clark’s own reports after the incident stated that no known connection between Horizon and any other terrorist action could be found in the ten years. And if John Clark didn’t think these people were still active, how could they be? “Jack, if you want to play mind games I suggest you do it to the people actively trying to kill you right now.”

 

“ _Eh, I would but I’m not as well-read on them as I am on Ryan. Oh, and tell him that his work on Soviet submarines? Pure strokes of genius, especially regarding Soviet officer mentality._ ”

 

Cohen’s mind recorded every word. “I’ll be sure to relay that to Mr. Ryan Jack. How are things in the library?”

 

“ _Well your team took out for of’em at the front door, guess they wanted to fine something to read real bad if they were willing to blow it up to get inside._ ”

 

“I’m sure you know that our operators are the best the world has to offer.”

 

“ _Oh I know. We’re still good in here, no one’s light-headed or nauseous. Once things wrap up we’ll take down the ice and get to talking. Jack out._ ”

 

Cohen stared at the mic for a moment. “ _You want to play with us Jack? Alright, let’s play._ ” Taking out her phone, Cohen dialed the one number she could only ever call in this situation. “Six, this is Cohen. Something’s come up.”

* * *

It was the worst kind of situation for any counter-terrorist unit. A building with long hallways, plenty of rooms, windows on the majority of approaches, and low visibility. Even with the majority of the sprayers disabled there was still enough of the compound in the air that Cowden didn’t want to imagine what the interior of the hall looked like. The two circular extensions jutting out from the building only aided in making the building look like a mighty brick fortress. “Anything in the windows?”

 

Glazkov and Weiss scanned the windows with their scope and “Spectre” electronics detector. Glazkov traced his weapon slowly across each window. “I’ve got three hostile targets, two on the first floor, one on the second, no sign of hostages.”

 

“Lower floor has bombs on the entrances,” Weiss said, flipping her small screen closed on her wrist. “None of the upper floors.”

 

“Can you scan through the walls?”

 

Estrada shook his head. “Those brick walls? Too thick to get a good reading.”

 

Porter motioned to the side of the building. “Not many windows that way, entrance via fourth floor and clear top to bottom.”

 

Cowden weighed the options. Charging in from the front was suicide, that was obvious. But were they being funneled? The Masks weren’t fools, they knew they were vulnerable from the sides of the building and that Rainbow wouldn’t pass up this chance. Given how the White Masks had been operating so far, the odds of there being any hostages left alive inside was so low as to be a non-issue. Avoid the windows, climb up the side, breach and clear via the fourth floor and move down. As long as they were sharp and kept each other covered there was no reason to expect casualties. “Move to the left side, we’ll rappel and move from the fourth floor.”

 

As the team moved, Porter and Cowden pulled their launchers from their belts. They weren’t “Batman” toys that could drag the entire team up on a single rope, they were simple launchers that sent a grappling hook flying skyward with a line attached. As their teammates covered them, the pair fired their lines and watched the hooks fly skyward over the roof. Waiting for the lines to slack, the two commandos gently pulled the ropes and waited. Cowden was the first to feel it, the resistance that signaled the line was securely caught on something and wasn’t coming loose. Porter’s line was secured a minute later, and in five minutes the entire team was up on the roof and moving for the fourth floor windows. It wasn’t an easy movement, the slope of the roof combined with the bulky suits forced them all to move with a slow precision, lest they all wind up dead from landing on the Harvard Yard than enemy action.

 

Positioning himself next to the windows, Cowden pulled the Caber from his back. The massive hammer would have thrown a smaller man off balance and off the roof. The smaller members of Rainbow never even bothered to try wielding it except as a joke. He waited for IQ to clear the windows with her scanner, and with a nod she backed away. Sledge took a breath, gripping the hammer and taking a slow practice swing. Safely tied off on one of the chimneys, he pulled back and slammed the hammer through the window.

 

Porter and Estrada rushed into the opening, clearing the room as Weiss and Glazkov moved in next. Good, since Cowden slipped on the swing. His right foot disappeared from under him, his body slamming into the tiles on the roof and nearly sending him four floors straight down. Shaking off the slip and knowing he’d probably laugh about his near-death later, he slung the “caber” back over his back and pulled his rifle back up. Moving through the window, he untied himself and tapped Estrada on the shoulder to start scanning.

 

The room was empty, the office of one of the professors on the campus. A small desk sat before them, cluttered with papers, mementos, and a desktop. Pictures hung on the walls of memories from the past; parties, graduations, favorite students. Hopefully the owner of this office had been off the campus today. Cowden had found too many dead bodies in the mist already.

 

Porter moved through the door first, clearing the offices and moving into the hall. Just as feared, it was long and narrow and without cover. Of course, that just meant that for Rainbow, anyone that wasn’t wearing civilian clothes was a target to drop.

 

Moving down to the third floor, Cowden motioned for the team to split. Weiss and Glazkov stayed on the floor as Cowden, Porter, and Estrada took the second. Holding at the stairs, Cowden and Porter kept their weapons trained down the hallway as Estrada scanned the hall. The monitor wasn’t purpose-built for long distances, the human body didn’t exactly evolve to send out signals to predators that screamed, “Here I am, eat me!” Still, the body did give off detectable electrochemical and physiological signals that could be detected with the right equipment either through a wall or a rough distance. Here the walls were thin enough that the HB-5 could detect the pulse of a target. Even with the hazmat suits the Masks had on, the sensor could still read their hearts enough to alert Estrada. He flashed an open palm twice; ten targets. Four to the left of the hall, six to the right. Cowden nodded and waited.

 

Gunfire erupted on the floor above, and three seconds later four White Masks emerged in their hazmat suits. The three operators took them down in a fusillade, the terrorists’ hazmat gear torn and bloody with each round that tore through them. That was the beauty of every rifle design based off the venerable AR-15. Each round was designed so that on impact, there was a sizable temporary cavity that destroyed tissue and caused arterial bleeding that starved the tissue of oxygen. If the target was really unlucky, the round would tumble on the way through, leaving an even larger cavity as it passed destroying even more. If the round hit bone, the target was probably walking away minus a limb if they walked away at all.

 

From what Cowden saw, the three targets were not going to be walking away.

 

There were shouts inside the classrooms, and two small objects came flying out. Cowden made sure Porter and Estrada were already moving and dove out of the way, feeling his body quake as the two grenades detonated. The hall was filled with smoke, making already terrible visibility worse. Estrada went prove and brought the scanner back up, showing four new figures stepping into the hallway. Pointing out the targets, Cowden and Porter dropped the terrorists and waited. One of them had only been wounded, but there was still enough gas in the air that the man’s cries of pain quickly faded into hacking, fitful coughs followed by stillness.

 

There was more gunfire upstairs, Glazkov’s rifle cracking along with the chatter of Weiss’ carbine. Cowden ignored it for now, his focus was straight down the hall. Another terrorist tried to peek around a door, but Cowden dropped him with a shot straight through his mask.

 

Estrada held up two fingers, pointing to the back of the hall. The two SAS started moving, practically gliding past the empty classrooms despite the gear. As they passed Cowden saw in the peripherals arms and legs splayed out close to some of the doors. It wasn’t clear whether they had died from the gas or from gunfire. At this point, Cowden didn’t care. There weren’t any survivors here, just bodies and two more terrorists.

 

Blood was pooling under the bodies, running out from under the NBC white suits. One of the terrorists had taken a round to the face, blood coating the mask beneath the plastic face shield. There was probably something poetic about it, but Cowden was never much for poetry and focused on the last targets.

 

“It’s over,” Cowden shouted into the empty room. “The rest of the campus is cleared, you’re the only two left. You surrender, we won’t kill you.”

 

“Fuck you will, tell that to those fuckers in Brazil!”

 

Cowden looked over to Porter. Brazil? What happened in Brazil? “I don’t know anything about that. I do know that if you don’t surrender, we will be forced to act.”

 

“Then do it fucker.”

 

Cowden shook his head. They weren’t going to give up, not with everything against them. Despite it, Rainbow needed intelligence and the only way they were about to get any was by taking at least one of the bastards alive. Moving forward toward the last door, Cowden kept his weapon up and ready. “You’re not going to die if you surrender, just put down your weapons-”

 

There was an explosion, throwing the door into Cowden and blowing out the windows of the classroom. Porter kept his weapon up as Estrada rushed from the stairs to help. Cowden shoved the cheap door off of his body, quickly checking his suit for damage. Nothing felt broken open or leaking, and his mask still held the seal inside the hood. He was covered in sweat and desperately needed to escape the damn thing, but he was alive and was going to stay that way a little while longer.

 

Estrada did the same, checking the suit and finding no serious damage. Taking Estrada’s hand, Cowden groaned as he realized that he’d landed hard on the Caber and would probably need to see a good chiropractor very soon. “Smoke, anything there?”

 

Porter swept the room. “One dead target, one dead target in pieces.”

 

Cowden nodded, keying his radio. “Command, this is Sledge. All targets neutralized, request EOD, building we are in is booby trapped on the ground floor.”

 

“ _Copy Sledge. Once the team clears the building return to gates for decon and debrief._ ”

 

Cowden groaned as he swapped channels. “IQ, Glaz, meet with us and standby.” Turning, Cowden ran through the words again. “ _Those fuckers in Brazil eh,_ ” he thought. “ _Dammit, why does that sound so bloody familiar?_ ”

* * *

“ _Jack, you there?_ ”

 

O’Neill blinked awake, groaning as he rolled off the table and grabbed at his radio. “Yo.”

 

“ _Decontamination crews are on the way, we’re going to get the survivors inside the library out soon. Is everyone inside still alright?_ ”

 

O’Neill scanned the library and saw the civilians inside perk up. “Yeah, we’re all still good. So, get what you needed to know about what happened with Chavez and Rainbow in Brazil?”

 

“ _We did, crazy as it sounds we confirmed your story. But we need to ask you some questions, about how you know what happened and why you came here on the day of this attack._ ”

 

“No problem, just tell us when you get here.” Laying back down, Jack pulled his cap back over his eyes. “They’re gonna arrest us.”

 

Lucy’s eyes bugged out. “What?! How can you be so calm about that, I thought we didn’t want to be arrested!”

 

“It’ll be standard procedure in this case,” O’Neill said, calmly as Lucy looked like she was about to break down in tears. “I mean hell, how would you react if you heard a lunatic say he knew top secret information show up in a crazy terrorist attack like this?”

 

Erza started to speak before Gray cut her off, making sure none of the civilians could freak out even more. “So what happens when we are arrested?”

 

“Well after I came back to…” Daniel remembered he was around civilians. “Home. I was locked in a room with two men in suits, they asked me a few hours’ worth of questions while glaring down at me and reminding me that if I ever said any details about what I went through to anyone without the proper security clearance I could expect to spend the rest of my life in a very small and uncomfortable cell where I wouldn’t be found.” Daniel flinched when he saw Lucy looking even more terrified. “I’m sure that won’t happen here though.”

 

“Won’t do us much good if we don’t get rid of that ice.” O’Neill pointed at the door. “Gray, you want to get rid of that stuff so we can meet the rescue party?”

 

Gray nodded, using his abilities to crack the ice and clear the doors and windows. “So you’re sure we’re okay now?”

 

“Once the decontamination teams arrive we should be safe to leave the library. No one’s displayed any symptoms since we sealed the building.” Carter turned to the civilians. “Everyone, can I get your attention?” The civilians looked up, some breaking out of sleep as others looked to Carter with haggard eyes and worn expressions. “The authorities will be here soon, their team disabled enough of the chemical sprayers to make it safe to come and get us.” The small crowd sighed and smiled, some of the people even hugging each other in joy. “Now you’ll probably have to go through decontamination and observation to make sure you weren’t affected, but you should be on your way home soon enough.”

 

Catherine shook her head. “Wait, you want us to just act like what we just saw didn’t happen?”

 

O’Neill smiled from beneath his ballcap. “What are you gonna tell’em?”

 

Catherine froze. What _could_ she tell anyone? “I was saved by a group of people, and one of them put up walls of ice that sealed the windows and doors from killing us”? Who would believe that? “ _I’m here and I don’t even believe it._ ”

 

Lucy kept quaking, looking to Carter with tear-filled eyes. “We’re, we’re not really gonna be arrested and thrown in jail right?”

 

Carter smiled and patted Lucy’s shoulder. “It’ll only be for questioning, we won’t have to worry about torture or anything that could hurt us once we’re in custody.”

 

O’Neill decided that telling them all about what happened to the Horizon Group wouldn’t go over so well. “There’s one thing though, here’s what’s going to happen.”

* * *

Cohen watched as the insertion team moved for the decon tents. The five set their rifles in racks before the tents, guarded by local SWAT wearing respirators and manned by yellow-suited specialists that would make sure the team would be safe to board the nearest vehicle and get back to the airport. The five disappeared into the tents, to be sprayed down and cleared before even attempting to walk back out again. Once their gear was stripped off and they secured their weapons they’d be sent back to Logan in FBI cars and would wait for the rest of the team. Standard, by the numbers and with no casualties. A plus to put in the final report.

 

What wasn’t were the seven figures also entering decon tents. Four men, three women. One of the men and two of the women barely looked old enough to enlist, let alone be part of some black unit like Rainbow. Maybe they were older than they looked? “ _Well people still think I’m in my twenties sometimes,_ ” she thought. “ _Wonder what they’ll come up as in the system._ ”

 

Garfield groaned, forcing himself to stand at this point as the immediate crisis ended. “God, I’ll give you people credit. That was probably the fastest time from touchdown to secure I’ve ever seen.”

 

“We do what we can,” Cohen said politely. “My leadership will be in contact to add any information we have to your reports. Will you need anything else before my people move on?”

 

Garfield let out a breath. “Well just make sure you tell me who those people in the library were, okay? Someone’s gonna be asking questions about that and I don’t want to be standing in front of the press with my ass in the wind.”

 

Cohen nodded, shaking Garfield’s hand. “We’ll take them with us when they’re clear, odds are they know something they’ll want to know that the public might not be ready for just yet. Once we have more we’ll get back to you.”

 

Garfield nodded, watching as the woman stalked off. In truth, there were two parts of himself in argument. One, the experienced agent, wanted to keep those people on the site of the incident. They were witnesses, worse they might have been involved. Whatever they knew needed to be documented and if they were involved it needed to be determined if they needed to be held and charged with anything. Every small piece of knowledge they had might be pieced together to figure out the full picture of what happened and why the White Masks had chosen this place as a target, as well as how they get in.

 

The other part of him realized that this was above him now. There had been rumors of a new internationally organized CTU for a while now, acting wherever there was a terrorist threat that authorities on the ground couldn’t normally deal with. He’d been hearing rumors like it since 2000, but he never really gave a damn as a trainee agent back then. Now though, he was too far along to care that there was someone acting above him in this situation. With the White Masks handled, his job was to cleanup the campus, catalogue the dead, and inform the families of the sad fates of everyone who hadn’t been close enough to the library to be saved. “Someone get the Boston police and fire brass here, CDC too. We’re gonna need to tell the press that things are wrapped up here.”

* * *

Lucy groaned, left in cheap scrubs now that her clothes were deemed “contaminated” by whatever gas had been released on the campus. They’d even taken her favorite blue bow. According to the woman that had cleaned her off, it would have to be incinerated to ensure there was no trace left of the substance that had been released. “Man, they’re so paranoid in this dimension.”

 

Walking out of the tent in a pair of cheap slippers, she saw the teams clustered together under the watchful glares of two men in some kind of black armor carrying weapons like SG-1 carried. Teal’c wasn’t out yet, Carter looking nervously toward the tent he was in. “He isn’t done yet?”

 

“I think I know why,” Carter said worriedly. “I think we’ll have a doctor come over soon.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “And enter, stage right.” Looking over, the team saw a man hurrying over along with a women wearing thick aviator sunglasses and an FBI ballcap. The man had a massive nose, tan skin, with salt-and-pepper hair on the side of his head. He spoke rapidly with the woman, shaking his head as the woman walked quietly beside him. The woman didn’t react as the man spoke, she just walked alongside with no emotion, her eyes reflecting everything before them. Lucy shuddered as she passed to the tent Teal’c was in. The team stared at the tent, waiting patiently, then the woman and man both rushed back out with the man cursing in a language she’d never heard before. The woman saw the teams, and called out, “I want those people under guard and their gear taken with us, get me some vehicles now.”

 

Lucy let out a whine. “No, please, I’ve never been to prison before! I won’t survive!”

 

Daniel shrugged. “Trust me, there are worse places to go to prison than here.”

 

Lucy didn’t have time to ask what that meant, surrounded by a group of people in the black uniforms carrying guns. Their faces were hidden by black face masks, some of them smaller but all of them glaring at the team with their weapons loaded. O’Neill kept grinning though, mocking these people with his lackadaisical attitude. “So what’s the composition by now? SAS, FBI, some French and Germans by now? Oh, did you ever grab any Delta Force?”

 

Teal’c came out of the tent, and two massive men quickly flanked him. Teal’c glared at the two, eyebrow raised as the two glared right back. One of them didn’t react, but the other had a look of discomfort in his eyes. Lucy couldn’t imagine why, but as she looked two more of the uniformed soldiers, a man and a woman, had the same look.

 

After a few minutes, several massive cars pulled up next to the team. Suddenly Lucy realized that one of the people was placing some kind of manacles on her wrists, all of them did. Teal’c started to react when O’Neill spoke up. “Uh-uh Teal’c, this one can slide.” Teal’c nodded, relaxing and allowing himself to be placed inside the SUV.

 

As Lucy got inside her SUV, she was placed with one of the female soldiers and one of the male ones. The worst part was that she didn’t have her keys with her right now. The same keys her mother had given her, that she’d gathered herself, taken by these people she had no idea about. How did O’Neill know them? What had he been talking about on the radio that he knew about? And why did he want Erza to be the first one they interrogated.

 

Looking up from her seat, she saw the two glaring at her, only their eyes were visible through their masks. But both of their eyes scanned her, watched her like stalking predators waiting for prey to move where they wanted it to so they could strike. Lucy withered even further as the vehicle started moving, neither person before her moving as the massive car rolled through the streets clogged with what Lucy could recognize as news reporters and regular people trying to figure out what had happened.

 

Lucy tried to smile at the pair. “So, are you both with the Air Force?” Neither person reacted, and Lucy shut up again until the car finally left the city she was in and wound up on a wide stretch of road that had four lanes on both sides. The vehicles rode in a line, one behind the other in a convoy. Lucy whimpered, trying to fold in on herself despite being buckled in. “ _God, will I be here forever? O’Neill said they should even take our bracelets. What if we’re trapped here forever? What if I never see anyone again?_ ”

 

Lucy shut her eyes and tried to keep herself calm. “ _What if I never see Natsu again?_ ”

 

After about an hour on the road the girl fell asleep, leaving Pichon and Baker to finally talk. “There’s no way she’s involved, I mean crying?”

 

“She’s playing us,” Baker growled, eyes still locked on the girl. “Her and all those others in the library, they’re something we need to cut out at the root. First the Masks, now these ones out of nowhere. No, there’s something going on here. We just need to find it and squash it.”

 

Pichon shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Plus, what about the keys and that bracelet? Those keys were solid gold and silver, and that bracelet had a crystal in the center, all of them did.”

 

“So they’re a bunch of bloody fools who think that crystals have power.” Baker shook his head. “Shame the Foleys aren’t running Langley anymore. You’d see this one begging for mercy in an hour and spilling everything.”

 

Pichon rolled her eyes. Baker was still back from when people thought torture disguised as “enhanced interrogation” was an effective tool at getting information. Of course, after Rainbow had reformed the science had come to back up the reality: Torture didn’t work. People would say anything to get out of it, to end the pain and to get away. It had only worked because of lucky breaks in the past. Like when Clark and Chavez snagged the men responsible for the Denver Bombing, their actions had only done physical damage. The men were convinced they had succeeded and happily spilled everything before they realized that their plan hadn’t resulted in nuclear war. She had only been two years old when the attack had happened. Still, she could remember her parents for years after always whispering when they thought she couldn’t hear. Talking in fear about bombs going off and not being ready. The entire world had been panicked for at least a decade to the point that French schools kept running bomb drills into 2005. That had been the past though, at least in the past enough that people had begun to move on enough as they could. All of what had been the     Denver’s Mile High stadium had been torn down and turned into a memorial for the dead. From what Pichon had learned, since then the Americans had renamed it the Memorial Bowl, dedicated to the lives lost that day.

 

There would be another memorial after this. Families would gather and remember their children and spouses and parents. Politicians and clergy would make speeches and prayers, and the world would move on until the next attack shocked them. Not that the world didn’t learn. The terrorists just learned faster. Dumb terrorists never made the headlines. The smart ones, the ones that were driven _and_ realistic, they succeeded. More often than Twitch cared to admit.

 

This girl wasn’t a terrorist, and she certainly wasn’t an operator. She was too innocent in her reactions. She’d been confused just after the decontamination and hadn’t bothered to cover up her fear when Rainbow surrounded her team. The tears in her eyes, Estrada would probably have to talk to her but Pichon knew they were real enough. Terrorists and criminals, younger ones often did have tears but they backed it up with anger. They were defiant through their fear and tried to put on a face of resistance. This girl hadn’t. She wasn’t still glaring, she was sleeping, exhausted from what had happened.

 

“ _Who are you little girl,_ ” Pichon though as the SUV convoy rolled into I-95 South. “ _And why did you save those people?_ ”


	4. Chapter 3: Old Wounds

**Chapter 3: Old Wounds**

 

“You’re absolutely sure that’s what he said.”

 

“ _Word for word Six,_ ” Cohen said as she rode over the phone to Virginia. “ _It might be a play, but it’s a damn good one if it is._ ”

 

Six leaned back at her desk. Looking out to the Hudson, she composed herself. “And this one man, Kateb examined him?”

 

“ _He did._ ” Cohen’s voice wavered suddenly. An unusual reality to hear. “ _He has…_ ”

 

Six leaned over her phone now. “Has what, Agent Cohen?”

 

“ _He has some kind of, a pouch, a pouch that has…_ ”

 

Six was getting impatient. “Has _what_ , agent?”

 

The response was utterly deadpan. “ _A snake monster ma’am._ ”

 

Six sighed. “Get as much information out of them as you can. You don’t need to worry about the media with this one, no one could believe it. I’ll call when I have more information from Mr. Chavez. Six out.” Hanging up with Cohen, the leader of Team Rainbow took a breath and pulled out her contacts list. It was old school, a small booklet with handwritten names and numbers, but it worked. No one could hack it and gain access, and it never left the office so no one could ever take it when she left for home. As time had gone on several names had been crossed out, but Mr. Domingo Chavez was still good to call.

 

The phone rang three times before there was an answer. “ _Hello?_ ”

 

“Mr. Chavez, this is Six.”

 

“ _What? Why are you calling me?_ ”

 

“Sir, we think that what’s happened at Harvard may be connected to Rainbow’s first year of activity.” Six looked back out to the Hudson. “I’m going to need you to talk to me for a little while, sir.”

* * *

It hadn’t taken long to spirit the prisoners through Langley. It was so simple it was brilliant. With constant rumors of blacksite prisons and secret Federal programs involving suspicious individuals who would suspect that they’d take them to the CIA’s offices in the middle of Virginia? “ _Stroke of genius,_ ” Estrada thought, looking through the one-way glass at the red-headed woman in scrubs. “So, what’d she say her name was?”

 

“Erza Scarlet.” Kötz looked over. “What kind of a name is that?”

 

“Obvious fake,” Estrada responded. “Where’s Eliza?”

 

“Still on the phone,” Kötz answered. “Did she tell you what she saw in that tent? The French keep talking about Doc being irrational, talking about wounds that don’t bleed and pouches.”

 

“Not a word,” Estrada said with a shrug. “Doc was probably more livid than scared, we’d all been through a long day and his temper was at a tipping point. It makes sense.”

 

“You’re the specialist,” Kötz mumbled, watching as the handcuffed woman kept looking around the room. “What do you think though?”

 

“She’s too calm,” Estrada said, watching Erza’s body language. “The blonde one, she’s about to break down, she probably won’t tell us anything useful though. The other four are pros, they won’t crack unless we come up with something that won’t really give us answers and the kid told us we’d have to talk to her.”

 

Kötz shook his head. “Then this woman must be something. Beauty and a keen tactical mind? Think I can get her number after this?”

 

“Do it on your own time.” Cohen came into the room, moving straight for the glass as Kötz smiled nervously. “Jack, get anything you can out of her.”

 

Estrada nodded, picking up two cups of fresh coffee. “On it.” Walking out of the room, Estrada nodded to Gilles “Montagne” Touré beside the door of the interrogation room. Touré nodded back, opening the door and letting Estrada inside.

 

“Evening,” he said, the woman smiling as Estrada walked in. “Coffee? This CIA stuff’s okay, better than what they have in Quantico.”

 

“Thank you,” she said, reaching out graciously for the cup. “I trust my comrades are being treated well?”

 

“Safe and sound,” Estrada answered, face blank as he sipped his own coffee. “So, Ms. Scarlet. What brought you to Boston?”

 

“We were exploring the area,” Erza said, sipping her own coffee with a soft smile of her own. “We had no idea the university was going to be so dangerous when we got there, but thank goodness we arrived when we did or those people might not have survived.”

 

“Their families are probably very thankful,” Estrada said, scanning Erza’s face. There was no obvious sign of deceit or obfuscation. Time to press a little. “So, have you ever faced the White Masks before then?”

 

“Not the White Masks,” Erza said. “Granted, I’m not used to what O’Neill calls terrorism. Criminals and despots of course, but terrorism is probably something I’ll need to learn how to handle.”

 

“ _Learn how to handle?_ ” The confusing part was that her face betrayed nothing. Each word, as far as Estrada could tell, was genuine. She wasn’t fidgeting, the pauses between her words didn’t indicate she was making anything up on the spot, she genuinely didn’t know what terrorism was. “ _No, what? Focus Jack, keep on the path._ ”

 

“O’Neill’s dealt with them before then?”

 

“No, actually he’s more used to dealing with threats that are more focused on conquest, enslaved armies and false gods.”

 

Estrada fought to keep from reacting. The woman was nuts, that was no longer a question. “ _Need to get a psychologist out here, probably gonna be an insanity defense for her unless we can get some good evidence._ ” Filing the thought away, Estrada kept going with the questioning. “So where are you from?”

 

“My home is in Magnolia Town, in the kingdom of Fiore. Presently my master has seconded my team and I to assist Col. O’Neill in their mission to continue their exploration of the multiverse.” Erza kept the same smile as she had another sip of coffee.

 

Jack was able to follow “Col. O’Neill”, everything else was a loss. “ _Kingdom of Fiore? The hell is this kid talking about? And multiverse? Yeah, this one’s definitely crazy._ ” Setting his coffee aside, Estrada decided to humor the woman. “Good to know he chose the right people. So, do you have a specialty then?”

 

Erza smiled, and before Estrada could react a brilliant light filled the room. Jumping out of the chair, Estrada shielded his eyes as the light dimmed and revealed Erza holding a Beretta in her hand. Still smiling, she pulled the slide back and slid the weapon across the table. “My magic is known as requip, it can pull or exchange my weapons and armor HEY!”

 

Estrada leapt across the table, wrestling with Erza for the weapon. Kötz and Touré were in the room a half-second after, holding Erza down until Estrada held the pistol in-hand and checked it. There was no magazine, no round in the chamber but-

 

Another flash, and the pistol was gone. Not changed, not different, gone. Estrada backed into a wall and felt his legs vanish from under him, staring at his hand as Kötz and Touré both did the same, Erza not struggling as she was pinned to the floor. “Like I told you,” she said, partially muffled from her face being pressed into the floor. “I can summon and return my weapons, armors, and other pieces of equipment to and from my person. Maj. Carter agrees that it functions via my ability to utilize a personal pocket dimension to function as a medium by which I can exchange my possessions.”

 

Estrada kept staring at his hand as Cohen walked in, glaring down as the girl. Even without her sunglasses, her face betrayed nothing as she looked to Touré. “Get her back to the holding room and get some weapons to guard them with.”

 

As Touré and Kötz took Erza from the room, Cohen let the mask drop and rushed to Estrada’s side. “Jesus Jack, what the hell was that? Where’s the gun?”

 

“It…It just disappeared.” Estrada shook his head repeatedly, staring at his empty right hand. “It was here, I felt it Eliza, and it’s _gone_. You saw it too right? I mean you saw it, right there?”

 

Eliza nodded, checking over Estrada and not finding any harm. “I saw it Jack, I promise I saw it too. We’ll figure out what happened, you just go get some sleep okay? C’mon, let’s find you a couch.”

 

Guiding Estrada out of the interrogation room, Cohen managed to find an empty break room and set him down inside. “Just get some sleep Jack, I’ll be right here with you okay? The faster you move past this the faster you can start putting things together.”

 

Cowden stepped in but waited for Cohen to keep helping Estrada feel more at ease. Both knew he probably wouldn’t have an easy sleep, but they were all exhausted and from what Cowden heard when he passed Kötz and Touré cursing about something disappearing and how Estrada had been shocked. As Cohen settled Estrada, she came over and kept her voice low. “I don’t know what that bitch did, she managed to sneak a fucking pistol in with her. I knew we should’ve strip searched them.”

 

Cowden shook his head. “And what would you have found? For God’s sake, they had to strip into scrubs in front of the specialists.”

 

Cohen thought for a moment. “Maybe she hid it in her bust? I mean those things are huge on her.”

 

Cowden blinked. “Jesus fucking Christ, pull the other one.”

 

Cohen glared up at the tall Scot. “Okay asshole, what do you suggest? That somehow a pistol actually appeared and disappeared in a flash of light? Because if you’ve honestly going to tell me that then you’re as big a liar as that asshole who said that Ding Chavez broke the rules in Brazil.”

 

Cowden stopped. “One of the White Masks mentioned Brazil as the reason he wouldn’t surrender. He blew himself and the last other one up when he realized we’d surrounded them.”

 

Cohen looked over to a still Jack Estrada and took a long breath. “Six is already calling Chavez now. We’ll wait for what she has to say.”

* * *

“ _What?_ ” Ding Chavez laughed on the other end of the line. “ _You’re seriously telling me that these guys are spinning stories? Six, c’mon, you’re not some rookie trying to make a name._ ”

 

“You’re also not giving me a reason to not believe them,” Six shot back. “Mr. Chavez, if something happened in Brazil different from the report you handed in I need to know before this might leak. We both know the FSB is angling to gain more power, maybe even put one of their own in charge. If that happens all of our secrets are at risk.”

 

“ _It won’t happen, Narmanov’s reforms didn’t leave them any room to make a move._ ” Chavez scoffed clearly on the other end of the line. “ _Listen, Six, whoever those assholes were they just made a guess and hit a bullseye. I told you, Brazil was the terrorists taking themselves out as we got there, they knew they didn’t have a chance_ ”

 

“I know, I’m reading the report right now.” Six read over everything on her laptop, every report from the operation in Brazil. “Clark signed off on all of it, I’m not saying you’re lying. I’m asking how these people somehow know.” As she spoke, her cell went off.

 

“ _Well no op is perfect,_ ” Chavez argued. “ _Best guess is one of the Brits might’ve let something slip. Probably an accident, nothing on purpose but with classification being what it is you never know._ ”

 

As Chavez spoke Six read the text from Cohen. “ _White Masks mentioned Brazil. That makes two._ ”

 

“Well apparently the White Masks know about something happening in Brazil as well Mr. Chavez,” Six said, a sudden coldness in her voice. “Care to explain how they know?”

 

Silence. Chavez had been caught in something, and if Ding Chavez was silent something was terribly, terribly wrong. “ _Six, what I’m about to tell you needs to be taken in context-_ ”

 

“You wiped them out,” Six said, realization striking her as she read the reports. “That’s why you mentioned there not being any bodies recovered and the building burning down in all the reports. God almighty Chavez, how many were in that building?”

 

“ _They were armed and scouring the area for us, we engaged and wiped them out._ ”

 

“All of them?” Suddenly every single report from the incident took on a double meaning meant to obscure the truth. “Who really burned down that compound Chavez, you or them?”

 

“ _If you knew what they were trying to do-_ ”

 

“You should’ve brought them in for trial,” Six said, her voice never rising but her very tone saying everything she needed to get across. “God Chavez, did you realize what this could’ve meant when you did this? Someone’s found out dammit, they’re using this.” There was silence from the other end, no response or acknowledgement. “Chavez, did anyone else know about this?”

 

“ _The team that went to Brazil were the only ones that knew what happened,_ ” Chavez answered. “ _And seeing as how they were all vetted to be the most tight-lipped bastards in the world I don’t think any of them are talking._ ”

 

“They were also selected as the most professional CTU operators to make up Rainbow.” Six let the words hang for a moment. “Did Pres. Ryan know about what you did?”

 

“ _Of course he didn’t,_ ” Chavez said, his voice quiet now. “ _Not even Clark knew what happened._ ”

 

Six shook her head. “As of this moment Mr. Chavez, consider yourself a person of interest. I _will_ be in contact later.” She didn’t give Chavez a chance to try and argue before she hung up. Still shaking her head Six rose and walked to the window of her office. Hands on her hips, she watched as the boats and barges on the Hudson drifted lazily through the water, matched by the speeding lights of aircraft through the night sky above. Across the river Brooklyn and Queens sat quietly, families undoubtedly glued to their sets and computers waiting for more news of loved ones or to see what would happen next.

 

She’d have to answer for what happened today, made to stand before a closed session of the Senate appropriations committee, probably a grilling from the House as well. The president wouldn’t offer any problems though, not when he’d come out in favor of Rainbow being reconstituted after the trial program for the “Campus” fell through with John Clark’s death.

 

“ _Chavez, you idiot,_ ” she thought as she went back to her desk and call Cohen. “ _After what happened in Columbia, how the_ hell _didn’t you learn?_ ”

* * *

Erza rubbed at a bruise forming on her right arm where the large man had grabbed her. “Just like you said O’Neill, they didn’t know how to react.”

 

O’Neill grinned at Daniel. “Pay up.”

 

Lucy yawned, having finally come down from her panic. “I don’t get it, why did you want Erza to get interrogated?”

 

“Because she’d be able to make something appear out of thin air.” O’Neill grinned as he looked toward a pane of one-way glass. “Hear that? We’ve got magic here, better tell Jack Ryan ASAP.”

 

Gray rubbed at his hair. “I don’t get it, who’s this Jack Ryan guy?”

 

“He’s a book character,” Carter said, her face ashen by admitting that. “In our world Jack Ryan is a fictional intelligence officer who goes on astounding spy missions against the Soviet Union. He isn’t real.”

 

O’Neill seemed to skip a little as he walked the room. “Well, he is now Carter. Got another theory?”

 

“The multiverse is essentially infinite possibilities; the current question is whether it involves branching timelines or wholly independent universes separate from each other.” Carter threw up her hands and groaned. “My best guess is that we finally dialed in a universe that is basically the one that most closely relates to the Tom Clancy book history.”

 

Daniel blinked, like he’d just realized what he just heard was real. “Wait, Tom Clancy? That insurance guy who wrote that submarine book? I mean I heard it was okay but an entire universe of it?”

 

“The larger issue at hand is that we are imprisoned.” Teal’c stepped up to the window and glared through it. “I do not believe they will let us exit this facility unless we give them further proof that we are who we claim to be.”

 

“Well give it a few,” O’Neill said, smiling at the window. “Give it about twenty minutes, they’ll be trying to figure out how Erza did what she did, then they’ll try to interrogate the rest of us. Lucy, think you can do what you do without your keys?”

 

Lucy nodded, still looking worn from being taken in. “I’ve done it before, but with what Erza went through I’m kind of afraid of how they’ll react.”

 

“They won’t,” O’Neill said, still smiling at the window. “Hell, this should be even more interesting.”

* * *

Cowden shook his head. “It’s a trick, it’s a bloody trick and she’s fucking playing us.”

 

Cohen shook her head. They were with Pichon in a CIA conference room, shades drawn across the glass walls to keep the odd prying eye from seeing what was happening inside. They kept replaying the footage of Erza making the gun appear in her hand before the weapon vanished out of Estrada’s hand. Pichon kept staring at the screen, lost in the fact that the footage had come straight from the room. There was no way to trick it, not when she had set up the camera in the room herself.

 

Cohen kept pacing the room, biting her hand as she walked back and forth beside the table. “Maybe it was a volumetric projection, motion tracked to help her keep the appearance.”

 

“That’s shit and you know it,” Cowden barked. “You’re saying Estrada imagined grabbing that pistol from her?”

 

“So you’re saying she just made a pistol appear out of thin air?” Cohen pointed at Cowden accusingly. “There’s no magic here Seamus, this was a trick. They’re not playing us, we’re going to figure out how the fuck they did this.”

 

“And what about the ice then? I saw it in that library Eliza, so did Jack. These people, they aren’t terrorists, and they aren’t fucking operators that we know. Now how the hell do you explain her having that pistol and it disappearing after she’s tackled? And you told me that this one bastard knows Rainbow exists, that he knew it was headed by Clark and Chavez. And what did he mean with that bit about Russian submarines and officers?”

 

“I don’t know,” Cohen groaned, finally sitting down and covering her eyes. “One of them had some kind of open wound, there’s ice inside the library out of nowhere, one makes a pistol appear in a flash of light, another just cries as we take her in. Their leader somehow knows about Rainbow’s first year of operation _and_ talks about Pres. Ryan like he somehow knows the guy.”

 

Cowden shook his head, the scene frozen on the woman smiling despite being held under the two operators. “I’m not saying we should just accept that this is some kind of magic thing and that she’s really traveling from universe to universe. I am saying that we need to face what’s in front of us.”

 

Cohen sighed. “How do we do that?”

 

Cowden paused. “We talk to them.”

 

“We tried that and they pulled a gun.”

 

“Not interrogate,” Cowden pointed out. “We just, I mean we won’t hold them alone. We’ll just go in, talk to them, and work out what’s happening.”

 

Cohen laughed. “Talk to them? Talk to the lunatics that we know nothing about.”

 

Cowden threw up his hands. “And how else are we gonna learn more? Either we talk to them and figure out what they might know, or we let them rot in a CIA blacksite until they die.”

 

“What about sodium thiopental,” Cohen argued. “We could at least put one of them under and try to wrangle something out of them.”

 

Cowden glared at Cohen. “I’m going to pretend that’s the desperation talking and not the same Agent Cohen who would stay to the same laws for treatment of prisoners in the case of a kidnapper and child trafficker.”

 

“Don’t play this game, not when MI-5 is still screwing around in Belfast and Derry.”

 

“Enough!” Pichon stood out, took a second to compose herself, and glared at both leaders. “They haven’t been uncooperative, there’s no reason to break out the chemical assistance yet. Once they become trouble, fine, we come down. We just need to figure out who they are right?”

 

Cowden and Cohen backed away from the proverbial cliff, looking away in shame. “Right, right Emmanuelle.” Rubbing his forehead, Cowden quickly shut off the projector and pointed at his left. “Cohen, we’ll talk to them. We’ll talk to them and find some answers and finish this mess. Twenty minutes, get some coffee and we’ll tackle it fresh.”

 

Cohen nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Cohen shook out her eyes, trying to keep the cobwebs from overwhelming her. “I’m sorry Seamus. You were right, it was anger.”

 

Cowden nodded. Just because they were all the most elite CTU on Earth, it didn’t stop them from being human. “Just get something to keep you steady Eliza. Whoever these ones are, we need to be ready for them.”

* * *

The door opened to show a massive bald man and the woman from before sans glasses and FBI ballcap. O’Neill clapped as they walked in. “So, give up?”

 

“I’m Capt. Seamus Cowden, SAS. This is Special Agent Eliza Cohen, FBI. You know what we’re part of then?”

 

“Team Rainbow, supposed to be the finest counter-terror unit in the entire world. GSG-9, GIGN, FBI, not a bad setup.” O’Neill hopped off the table and went over to shake Cowden’s hand. “Really, big fan of your past work.”

 

Cowden’s face betrayed his confusion no matter how hard he tried to remain stoic. “Thank you sir, I’m…flattered.”

 

O’Neill shook Cohen’s hand. “So, what’d you think of requip? I know, I know, it’d make life a hell of a lot easier in the field and even more useful when you show up at the part wearing the same outfit as someone else. Lord knows it’s happened to me more than once.”

 

Cowden and Cohen looked to Daniel, who could only shrug. “You learn to love him.”

 

“You are one of the two who came into the tent.” Teal’c looked to Cohen. “You did not believe that my stomach was truly what you saw.”

 

Cowden looked between Teal’c and Cohen. “What’s wrong with his stomach?”

 

Silently Teal’c pulled up his shirt to reveal the wound in his stomach. As Cowden stared, he realized something was coming out of the X. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

 

Junior poked his head out, snarling at Cohen and Cowden before slithering back into his pouch. Teal’c let his shirt fall back over his stomach, O’Neill still smiling. “So, questions?”

 

Cowden kept staring at Teal’c, Cohen covering her eyes as she spoke. “Who are you? No jokes, no bullshit, who are you?”

 

“Col. Jack O’Neill, Air Force. Maj. Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Teal’c.”

 

“I’m Erza Scarlet,” Erza said, nodding to the two. “This is Lucy Heartfilia, and Gray Fullbuster. As I mentioned, we’re part of the wizard guild Fairy Tail in Fiore.”

 

Cohen shot Cowden a glare as the Scot went on. “And you’re claiming that you’re from another dimension.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “Yeah, it’s safe to say that we’re proving that more each second.”

 

“Nothing’s proven,” Cohen said firmly. “There’s no such thing as traveling dimensions.”

 

O’Neill turned to Lucy. “You want to show her?”

 

Lucy shut her eyes and drew into her energy. Summoning her spirits without her keys was difficult, like dialing a radio without being able to see the dial. It wasn’t that she’d somehow call on the wrong spirit, but the problem was getting to them at all. The only way she could draw on them was to try and summon all of them.

 

The room around her lit up, Cohen and Cowden watched as several shapes of light formed out of thin air. Cowden and Cohen backed into each other as a bipedal cow came into existence beside a man with scissors in his hands and crab legs jutting out of his back. A giant clock with a pair of eyes and mustache stood beside a massive silver cross. Thirteen _things_ suddenly took up space in a previously near-empty conference room.

 

“Nice to meet you,” one of them said, looking like a man with spiky orange hair and sunglasses in a suit and red tie. “I’m Leo, celestial spirit. I guess you guys don’t have magic in your world, judging by how you’re staring at us.” Loke smiled as he kissed Cohen’s hand. “Good to know that women are beautiful no matter the dimension.”

 

Cohen yanked her hand back, Cowden glaring up at the cow-man. “What is this O’Neill, where’d these things come from?”

 

Lucy laughed. “They’re spirits, they made a contract with me and we work together. Sorry to bother you guys, I just needed to show Agent Cohen and Capt. Cowden how magic can work.”

 

“Oh, hey Lucy.” One of the things, a dark-skinned shirtless man with half-red, half-white hair and a robotic appendage sprouting from his back grinned to Lucy. “Aquarius is doing fine, she said she’s enjoying the vacation.”

 

Lucy laughed. “I figured she would be. Thanks again guys, I’ll see you all later.” The spirits vanished, except for Leo and a goat-man. “You guys okay?”

 

“We’ll stick around for a while Lucy,” Leo said, looking toward Cohen and Cowden. “We just want to make sure you’re gonna be okay here.”

 

Cohen grabbed a chair and fell into it, Cowden rubbing at his bald head trying to escape the sudden throbbing pain in it. “You’re…You’re all really from another dimension…How…”

 

O’Neill sat across from Cowden and dropped the grin. He’d had his fun by now. “It starts in the distant past of 1994.”


	5. Chapter 4: Momentum

**Chapter 4: Momentum**

 

Rainbow all stared in shock at O’Neill, standing at the head of a conference table with Erza beside him. The presence of Capricorn and Leo didn’t help matters. “And that’s how we wound up here knowing what we do.”

 

Rainbow’s expressions ranged from shocked to confounded to sorrowful. Marius “Jäger” Streicher was currently trying to shut out the world and return to what he knew was supposed to be real as Cowden walked up and took O’Neill’s spot. “So, yes, it looks like we have confirmation of not only extra-terrestrial life but also of magic, superscience, and parallel universes.” Cowden had to take a long slow breath before moving on. “Our mission hasn’t changed, we still need to find the leadership of the White Masks and dismantle their operations.”

 

Gray raised a hand. “Who are these White Mask guys anyway? Why’d they attack the college?”

 

Cowden was about to speak when Six came over the laptop on the computer. “ _As of this moment Cowden, they’re cleared for whatever we know. If this bites us, it’ll be mine on the block._ ”

 

“Yes ma’am. The White Masks first showed up on the international radar with several at first random attacks. A hostage crisis in suburban Los Angeles, a bank in Paris, a café in Moscow. None of the targets respond to any political or economic targets, and what’s worse is that the White Masks have made no statements regarding loyalty to any radical ideology.”

 

Daniel shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, I mean a terrorist group is literally defined by their willingness to utilize violence and terror to accomplish a political objective.”

 

“Well these ones don’t,” Cohen said, bringing up several pictures from crime scenes involving the White Masks. “They took a single suburban mother hostage and made no demands. They destroyed a bank but didn’t take any of the money. They wiped out a café of innocent people and didn’t tell us what they died for.”

 

Carter nodded. “Did you ever ID any of them?”

 

“Where it gets more confusing.” Cohen brought up several pictures of men in intelligence photos. Walking down streets talking to each other, getting in and out of cars, greeting each other as old friends. The difference was in the color of their skin and the locations the pictures were taken in. Some were urban, some desert, some in distant woodlands. “They’re all members of individual terrorist groups. RIRA, several separatist groups, American militia movement, none of them with any unifying ideology.”

 

Lucy innocently raised a hand. “I don’t understand, are those things very different?”

 

Alexsandr “Tachanka” Senaviev chuckled. “It’d be like you screwing around with an fat old slob and saying you love him, I wouldn’t believe it until I see the money.”

 

As Lucy huffed at the statement and O’Neill looked to Carter with raised eyebrows, Cohen continued. “We’re been trying to find a money trail to follow without any luck. We’re not sure if it’s because they’re all operating off a single account or if they’re utilizing strictly cash payments for their actions.”

 

Carter leaned back. “That’s a little weird. Must be a lot of money to accomplish that kind of unity.”

 

Teal’c nodded. “Or they share a common enemy.”

 

“We thought about that as well,” Cohen said, putting up a picture of several White Masks firing on German police. “This was taken from a German shipping port two months ago, there was a bomb planted on this ship and the White Masks opened fire on the first officers to respond. It took three hours for GSG 9 to finally break through their position and end the threat. They’d killed every civilian inside and made that specific dock unusable for three months. That isn’t coming after us, especially since it was only after these attacks that Team Rainbow was reconstituted.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “That then would explain why there are Russians here.”

 

Cowden looked over in surprise. “Thanks to Narmonov’s reforms and Pres. Ryan’s decisions during the Second Border Conflict, relations between the Russian Federation and NATO members is actually rather strong. Why did you think the Russians would still be our enemies after Narmonov’s actions?”

 

O’Neill pointed to Senaviev. “Because they’re KGB? Isn’t that good enough?”

 

Senaviev leaned forward. “I’m not _chekist_ , every one of us here is Russian Army. We were only transferred to FSB service to ‘aid our brothers in intelligence’.”

 

O’Neill gave a plastic smile. “And that just makes me feel so much better.”

 

Kötz started to laugh. “This is beautiful, I mean I love this. This man travels to other planets and dimensions with people who use actual fucking magic, but he can’t take the fact that the Russians are working with us.”

 

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. “This is a valid point O’Neill. This is not our home, and these are not our Russians.” All of Rainbow had to process the phrase for a moment.

 

“ _What matters is that now, we have aid._ ”

 

The room was silent, everyone staring at the phone. Cowden was the first one to speak. “Ma’am, I’m not sure that-”

 

“ _I just confirmed that Domingo Chavez and the original Rainbow Team left over a dozen individuals to die in the Brazilian rainforest rather than take them in for trial and sentence._ ” The room was silent again, all of Rainbow staring at the phone like it was announcing the winning lotto numbers. “ _These people know about us, they might know who the White Masks are being propped up by. You’ll take them back to Hereford and pick up the investigation from there. The FBI in Boston will be informed that the library was saved by the individual actions of several concerned citizens who managed to seal off the building before the gases could affect anyone inside. You will take all their equipment along as well and ensure that all proper classification is upheld._ ”

 

There was another break before Cohen spoke up. “What about you Six?”

 

“ _I’ll be handling the political fallout from this. Get back to England, all of you, and we’ll move from there. Six out._ ”

 

The teams were left staring at the phone, replaying Six’s words over and over. No one in Rainbow moved, until Erza spoke up. “We’ve never been to another country, even in SG-1’s world. It might be nice to go to one.”

 

Cowden sighed, rubbing at his forehead and pointing to Streicher. “Streicher, Kötz, both of you stay with Col. O’Neill’s bunch and see that they don’t go anywhere they aren’t supposed to. Rest of you lot, get your equipment and things and get to the cars in thirty so we can get on the plane.”

 

Lucy watched as the operators started moving for the door, feeling a little more at ease now that they were believed. “I guess we’re on the same side now?”

 

Streicher rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we need to get you all some food before the flight. Cafeteria should be this way.”

* * *

Jack Ryan sat in his study in his home on Peregrine Cliff, watching the last pieces of news from Harvard with a scotch in hand and a scowl on his face. The press conference was boilerplate, typical press release about how all the agencies came together, saved the day, and made off with the bad guys dead. Casualties had occurred, investigations ongoing, all the scheduled responses delivered like clockwork before the questions. “Any leads?” “Has anyone claimed responsibility?” A favorite recently were questions of “false flag” operations, but Ryan scoffed when it was asked. The conspiracy crowd had gotten louder in the past decade, and it had pissed him off to no end.

 

“ _Shame Tom Menino isn’t in Boston anymore,_ ” he thought, sipping his drink as the talking heads returned to the screen. “ _Good to see the new Rainbow is living up to the expectations at least._ ”

 

Cathy was upstairs, she’d had enough of the news and just wanted to get some sleep. The grandkids were coming over tomorrow and the rule was that Jack couldn’t talk politics or intelligence when they were. That was primarily Sally’s rule, and Jack wasn’t about to go against his daughter. She was “mom” now, and with her kids came her rules. Not that Jack minded. He enjoyed being able to spoil the kids and then hand them back for Sally to deal with.

 

The phone rang, and with a groan Jack looked to see who was calling. “Unknown Caller”. That only meant one person at this point. “Six?”

 

“ _Mr. President, sorry to bother you._ ”

 

Jack groaned. “I’m not the president anymore, Aurelia, you don’t need to be like that.”

 

Aurelia Arnot, current Rainbow Six, remained the consummate professional. “ _Sir, something happened in Boston you need to be aware of._ ”

 

Jack sat up. “My family?”

 

“ _No sir, but it does relate to the first operations of team Rainbow._ ”

 

Jack blinked a few times. “First operations? What are you talking about, is this related to those bioterrorists back in 2000?”

 

“ _Sir, I can confirm that the OPFOR in Harvard specifically mentioned an incident in Brazil. An incident that acts as their justification for utilizing suicide vests rather than being taken alive._ ”

 

Jack grabbed for his personal files and tore through them, running for late Summer and early Fall of 2000. “What were they saying Aurelia?”

 

“ _Our insertion team leader reported that when his team had the last hostiles cornered, the hostile shouted that he would not share the same fate as the group in Brazil._ ”

 

Jack laughed. “That was all on them, Rainbow only got there after the fact.”

 

“ _That’s not what Chavez told me sir._ ”

 

Jack stopped. “What?”

 

“ _I spoke with Mr. Chavez a half-hour ago. He confirmed that Rainbow arrived and engaged with roughly a platoon of hostile forces. When the engagement was finished he ordered the survivors inside the compound to strip as Rainbow burned down the building. They left the entirety of the survivors to the rainforest._ ”

 

Jack’s heart fell, the files falling onto his desk forgotten. “Ding told me that those people chose suicide to being captured by Rainbow, he signed off on it. _I_ signed off on it.”

 

“ _So you deny having any knowledge of this fact sir?_ ”

 

Jack slammed his fist on his desk. “Of course! If I had any idea that Ding had done that I would’ve cut him from Rainbow that second.”

 

“ _And all of Rainbow that had participated in it?_ ”

 

“You’re damn right I would’ve.” Taking up his scotch again, Jack growled into the phone. “Rainbow was made to bring these kinds of animals to justice, not to kill them where we can’t see. Chavez had no right to keep this from me.”

 

“ _I’ve ordered Rainbow back to Hereford. We believe that we have additional intelligence gathered that can help us track the perpetrators. Sir, I highly recommend you go over the initial Rainbow actions and that you review your own records to ensure that there isn’t anything untoward that could develop into a problem later._ ”

 

Ryan was struck by the statement. “What are you talking about?”

 

“ _I believe that we may have a leak of unprecedented scale that is as-yet unidentified sir, focused on your career from the attack on the Royal Family to the present. I don’t have specifics yet, but these leaks could prove disastrous to our security apparatus. The only other confirmed leak mentions involvement with a Soviet submarine and officer mentalities._ ”

 

Ryan took a longer sip than he normally would. “I see. Was there any more detail to this statement?”

 

“ _Nothing else sir. I’ll leave you be. Goodnight sir._ ”

 

Ryan silently hung up the phone and started going into his files again. The attack by the ULA, the _Red Oktober_ , Lindo Coffee and Mercenary Ridge. Literally averting nuclear war by making an end-run around the back of the president. Surviving the destruction of the Capital Building and ensuring that war between China and Russia didn’t erupt. All the decisions he’d had to make in the shadows to protect his family and nation, and suddenly somehow these secrets were leaking into the world. For now, they were contained. How long could that last?

 

Jack took another drink, suddenly realizing that the world had, for him, fundamentally shifted. There were no secrets now, not when the digital world had somehow found a way to wrangle up the scans and files that were supposed to be secured as long as was deemed necessary. Even after Ryan’s lobbying to increase America’s security on the new front of cyber-intelligence, all it took was one kid with the time and new ideas to break through years of established protocol and procedure.

 

Taking out the bottle, Jack poured himself a double and leaned back in his chair. Cathy would give him hell for it in the morning, drinking himself to sleep as if he were still working under Pres. Fowler. He’d work through it, his grandkids would take the stress away as he took them to the movies and treated them to milkshakes and burgers and watched whatever new Disney film they’d fallen in love with.

 

Jack put the cool glass against his head to try and head off the headache he’d have tomorrow. “ _Let it go, Jack. Let it go._ ”


	6. Chapter 5: Hereford

**Chapter 5: Hereford**

 

Gray blinked awake as he saw sunlight streaming in through the room he’d been put in. Sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed, the Gray room around him was just a reminder that he was in the “Hereford” base.

 

“ _God, don’t they let people have any color in this universe?_ ” Quickly dressing in the clothes he’d been lent by Rainbow, he left the room and walked into the cold cinder block hallway to see Daniel walking out as well. “Morning.”

 

“Gray, hey, just trying to get some breakfast.” Looking down the gray hall, Daniel sighed. “At least back in the mountain we have colored lines.”

 

“Not saying much.” Walking along, Gray looked around before speaking. “So when are we busting out of here?”

 

Daniel shook his head. “Uh, I don’t think we need to break out actually. I mean given how Jack’s reacting we’d need to be more worried him offending the Russians again.”

 

Trace was waiting for them at the front door, arms crossed as he stared at the wall across from him. “Morning. So, apparently I’m in charge of making sure you guys don’t do anything stupid today.”

 

Gray let out a groan. “C’mon, do we really need a babysitter?”

 

“Well let’s see, you acted without legal authority during a bioterror attack. You technically don’t exist since you were never even born according to our legal records. Finally, you have fucking magic. Yeah, I’d say you warrant a babysitter. Also, where the fuck is your shirt?”

 

Gray yelped and looked back to the stairway as Daniel nodded. “Marine?”

 

“Four years.” There was no reason to ask how Daniel knew, people just knew who was and wasn’t a Marine. “C’mon, once the stripper-in-training gets his shirt back on we’ll get you to chow.”

 

With Gray safely re-clothed the trio set off into Hereford, Gray looking around as the size of the base. “Wow, why is this place so different from the SGC?”

 

“Hereford was an airbase, but they decided that the SAS needed a place they could rapid-deploy from.” Trace shrugged. “Came in handy when Rainbow came along.”

 

Gray nodded. “So what exactly is Rainbow anyway?”

 

Trace shook his head. “Can’t tell you the details, you aren’t cleared to know anything unless Six says otherwise. Look, I’m kinda still processing the fact that not only is the multiverse a thing but that I’m talking to two people who traveled through it. Hell, I still can’t believe that fucking magic is real.”

 

“Yeah, it can be a shock.” Walking up on the mess, Daniel looked around to see several RAF men walking out after breakfast and staring in confusion at Gray. “Anyway, I was honestly gone for a lot of what was the Ryan presidency, how’d it go?”

 

Trace smiled. “Pres. Ryan? Hell, no one fucked with America. The Iranians, Chinese, none of them had a fucking chance of taking us on.”

 

Daniel blinked. “We had a war with China?”

 

“Well it didn’t quite get to the point of war,” Trace said, thinking for a minute as he walked into the hall and pulled out his wallet. “Russia did the majority of the fighting though, we just made sure they had the necessary support to carry out the war. Think that’s why that O’Neill guy is having such a hard time processing the Spetsnaz being here.”

 

“It is a shock,” Daniel admitted and Trace got them into the mess. “I mean when I left, the Soviet Union had only been gone three years, I’m still understanding that they’re technically democratic now.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a little weird.” Trace smiled as he went for the chow line. “Oh yeah, love an English breakfast.”

 

Gray didn’t disagree. Even if it was in a military base it was still a big spread. Sausages and thick bacon, fresh scrambled eggs and thick slices of toast. Oranges, apples, and bananas adding color and vitamins to keep the base fully fueled. Gray smiled, digging into the breakfast with vengeance. “Oh man, this is _so_ much better than the crap we get at the SGC.”

 

“Yeah, the Brits like their breakfast.” Starting on his own plate, Trace looked up to Daniel. “So you’re an archaeologist huh? How’s that help, exactly?”

 

Daniel checked to make sure no one was nearby before speaking. “Well the aliens we’re fighting against actually were on Earth far in our past, we considered them ancient gods and deities. The Egyptians, Romans, Greeks, and ancient Japanese all worshipped ancient Goa’uld that took on the personas of ancient gods. Except for the Chinese, the Goa’uld ruling them was Yu.”

 

Trace stopped chewing for a second. “Yu?”

 

Gray looked up. “Yeah?”

 

Daniel waved it off. “No, not you, Yu.” Gray nodded and went back to eating. “As it turns out, the only major faiths we could find that weren’t run by the Goa’uld were the Norse and Native American tribes. We’re not sure about the Aboriginal people of Australia though.”

 

Trace scoffed. “You’re shitting me. What about God and Jesus?”

 

Daniel thought for a moment. “Actually, we really haven’t found anything that matches with Judeo-Christian myth. That’s a good point.”

 

Gray gulped down half a glass of milk. “It is?”

 

“Well yeah, it’s actually very important.” Daniel pushed his plate back and quickly went into “explanation mode”. “From what we’ve seen the majority of Earth’s religious faiths, at least in my universe, revolve around the actions of extra-terrestrial beings. Except for some reason we haven’t found any evidence of interference that would explain the rise of monotheistic faiths; Judaism, Christianity, Islam, three of the world’s major foundational religions but without any corresponding interaction that we can find between alien beings and their worshippers.”

 

Trace groaned, rubbing his eyes with his finger and thumb. “Okay, well that’s not here though right?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d need to investigate the areas we’ve already found evidence of Goa’uld habitation.”

 

“Well right now we have a more immediate problem.” Scarfing down some toast, Trace polished off his plate and drained his water. “C’mon, let’s get to work.”

 

The two followed Trace to a small office set off from the other buildings, a small sign out front of it. “United Nations Forward Development and Investigation Agency.”

 

Daniel looked to Trace. “United Nations?”

 

“When we reformed Rainbow the safest way to ensure full cooperation was to place it under the aegis of the UN. It got the Russians aboard, and we’re looking to recruit from several non-NATO nations and police forces too.” Trace grinned as he opened the door. “It’s a whole new world Dr. Jackson.”

 

Such an introduction made actually walking into the building rather underwhelming. The entrance was just a small waiting area with a walled off office to the front, an RAF man manning the desk and smiling as Trace walked in. “Morning sir, quiet night?”

 

“Hardly,” Trace said, swiping a pass card. “Two to escort, are the rest upstairs?”

 

“Just missed Capt. Cowden sir,” the enlisted said, handing Daniel and Gray their own cards. “Don’t take these off, keep them visible at all times while you’re here and turn them in whenever you leave the building. Don’t go anywhere alone either, you need to stay with a member of the group at all times while you’re here.”

 

Daniel nodded, Gray whispering to him as they followed Trace to the stairs. “I don’t get it, the SGC isn’t nearly this strict.”

 

“Well this isn’t the SGC,” Trace said firmly, catching Gray by surprise. “You fuckers came into a terrorist attack and somehow have information on the world’s most secretive CTU, did you honestly think we’d just let you do whatever you wanted?” Daniel and Gray looked at each other and couldn’t argue the point.

 

Trace opened a set of doors to the second floor to reveal an office setup, over a dozen desks spread through the interior with Rainbow agents already at work. Pichon and Weiss were both bent over a laptop talking, as Porter and Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier were reading over several files and papers, heatedly discussing something related to what happened yesterday.

 

Cowden and O’Neill were talking to the back of the office, Teal’c standing next to a window watching the discussion.

 

“Welcome to the madhouse,” Trace said, striding in with a smile. “Morning boss, what’s the latest?”

 

Cowden nodded. “Cohen wants SG-1 and Fairy Tail in the main office.” Cowden said the name of the guild with a noted pain.

 

O’Neill moved back. “Onward Daniel, paperwork awaits.” Sighing, Daniel led Gray into the office in the back.

 

Agent Cohen was at her desk. Carter, Lucy, and Erza stood before her. “Good, that’s everyone here. Colonel, can you shut the door please?” O’Neill nodded and did so. “Alright, so let’s make this clear right now. I still don’t believe that you’re actually from some multiverse-traveling group of heroes. To me, heroes aren’t real, they’re created after the fact. So if you want to be here, you’re going to do some work. We have a lot to sift through after yesterday’s attack, and no time to relax just because the terrorists are all dead back in Boston. Do any of you have law enforcement training?”

 

Lucy sighed. “Does running from the army count?”

 

Cohen’s glare quickly silenced Lucy. “Well I know that you four,” she pointed at SG-1. “Can at least help us understand this from a military perspective, maybe your look on things might help us wrap our heads around this from another angle. Your three?” She waved dismissively at the wizards. “Unless you can make some thing appear out of thin air that can help us process all this information, I don’t know what we can do with you.”

 

Lucy’s face broke into a smile. “I do have something actually! All of our things were brought over right?”

 

Cohen raised an eyebrow, making Teal’c raise his eyebrow. “They were, what are you going to need from those?”

 

“I have a pair of Gale-Force reading glasses,” Lucy said proudly. “You sit me down in front of something you need read, I’ll have it taken down in seconds.”

 

Carter nodded. “It’s true, I’ve seen those things in action. Give her those glasses and she’ll be able to pour over whatever reports you have.”

 

Cohen nodded. “Fine, you can go to the supply warehouse and pick up your gear. Tell Pichon to take you. What about you two?”

 

Erza hung her head. “I’m afraid we can’t offer much Agent Cohen. Gray and I are wizards, not agents or soldiers like you all.”

 

“Well we need to do something with you.” Cohen leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. “Okay, so you have some kind of…’abilities’. You can make things appear out of the air, what about you? You’re the ice boy right?”

 

“Yeah, I’m-“

 

“Got it.” Cohen got up and walked out to the office where Rainbow stopped as she stepped into view. “Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen today. Pichon, take Blondie here to supply and get her the glasses she needs. Kötz, Miles, I need you two to take Magic Mike and Red out back. See what they can do. Col. O’Neill, you and your team stay here and help us with the reports we already have. The White Masks probably think they can get away with anything at this point. We’re going to show them just how wrong they are.”

 

The teams set back to work, digging through their work as the travelers set to their different tasks.

* * *

“Okay, this aughta be good.” Campbell turned to Kötz and tried to keep a good façade as he looked over Erza and Gray- “Is there a _reason_ you can’t even keep your shirt buttoned kid?”

 

Gray quickly started buttoning up. “I can’t help it okay? I mean it’s freaking warm out here.”

 

Kötz and Campbell looked at each other in confusion. “Kid, it’s fall. In _England._ ”

 

“Please forgive Gray,” Erza said, smacking her friend upside the head. “What will you need from us?”

 

“Well you lot apparently have some kind of magic tricks to play for us,” Kötz said, grinning at the two wizards. “You’re going to show us how exactly this bunch of tricks is supposed to help us.”

 

Erza smiled at the thought. “A challenge then? Very well. I promise we’ll go easy on you.”

 

Kötz laughed. “Easy? You think it’s right to mock me girl? You’re a long way from home.”

 

Campbell got between the two. “Alright, alright. You can beat the tar out of these two later. Look, what can you two do?”

 

Erza nodded to Gray. Grinning, the wizard stepped forward and shouted out, “Ice make shield!”

 

The two operators were left stunned as the boy suddenly created a massive shield of solid ice in front of his body, taking it in his arms and hefting it overhead. “What do you think?”

 

Campbell stared at the shield. Kötz shook his head, reaching out and daring to touch it. “It’s…My God, it’s real.”

 

“Course it is,” Gray said with a smile, breathing heavily. “I was taught by one of the best maker wizards in Fiore. Ur taught me everything I know, since I was a kid.”

 

Campbell was slowly shaking his head, Kötz knocking on the ice. “No, no way this is real.”

 

Erza laughed. “Why do you say that? SG-1 didn’t have any problems accepting that this is real.”

 

Campbell ran his hand along the shield and tried to keep going. “Magic isn’t real though. It’s a fake, a trick. I mean this? This is just something you pulled out of a hologram or something.” Campbell shuddered. “Jeez, is it getting colder?”

 

Kötz smiled. “Course, that makes sense. Condensation, the air cools rapidly and sucks the surrounding water in. The flash of light must be some kind of energy exchange, taking the heat out of the space where the shield forms and sucking in the surrounding water.”

 

Campbell shook his head. “No, that’d mean that they had to make this without violating the law of conservation of mass.”

 

“That’s what that wind was,” Kötz said, taking out a flip knife and taking a few small stabs at the shield. “Incredible, just incredible, you literally channeled the available moisture in the air to form the shield. How’d you do it?”

 

“Maj. Carter is working on a theory that we’re farther along in what is considered the continuing steps of evolution,” Erza said, smiling as she requipped several armor plates onto her body. “I don’t pretend to understand the details, but essentially we’re able to tap in to reality itself.”

 

“Fundamentally able to manipulate the very laws of physics.” Campbell said the words almost reverently, like he’d just been allowed to enter the Holy of Holies by King Solomon. “That’s amazing.  But, why are you only using it to do things like make ice shields and swap out armor and weapons?”

 

Erza and Gray looked to each other. “We never really thought about it that way. Every wizard just has a magical talent that they possess. Other wizards might have similar gifts but…” Erza stopped, wiping off some sweat. “The One Magic."

 

Kötz raised an eyebrow. “What’s that now?”

 

“It was something one of our enemies mentioned as their goal,” Erza said. “The One Magic is the ultimate source of all magical abilities, the source that all wizards gain their powers from. It’s what would allow them to seize power over the world, to rule as gods in the Ultimate Magic World.”

 

Campbell thought about the words and tried to process them into an understandable meaning. “This Ultimate Magic World, what does it mean?”

 

“It’s a world where only wizards can live in,” Gray said, dissipating the shield as the air around him suddenly warmed. “The people who wanted it said it was a place where magic was supreme, and wizards could do anything in it.”

 

“You mean control over reality itself?” Kötz’s sneer made it clear what his thoughts were. “You can’t just make reality do what you want. Physics isn’t anyone’s bitch, you two are proof of that right here.”

 

“I’m not so sure,” Erza said. “Here it feels like we have to spend a little more effort than usual to use our magic.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Gray said. “I mean I didn’t notice back at the college, probably because of the adrenaline, but now? Just making that shield got me a little winded. Wonder how Lucy’s feeling.”

 

“We can worry about that later,” Campbell said, taking a breath as he forced himself to refocus. “Alright, now you two have firearm and hand-to-hand training right?” He paused. “Don’t summon the pistol, just answer yes or no.”

 

“We were trained with firearms by the SGC, and we’re both skilled fighters in our own right.” Erza smiled. “I’ll bet we could match all of this Team Rainbow by ourselves.”

 

Porter laughed, turning away as Campbell shook his head. “Maybe we can organize an exhibition later. For now, we’ve got a few more questions.”

* * *

Lucy dug through the supplies like a mole, tossing boxes and packs aside like toys. Pichon barked at her from the warehouse entrance. “Hey, girl, you’re cleaning this all up once you find what you’re looking for! Didn’t your mother teach you any manners!”

 

Lucy stopped and glared back. “Hey, you want us to be useful don’t you? Well the sooner I find my glasses the sooner I can actually help out. Oh, and don’t insult my mother again unless you want me to get angry.”

 

Pichon held up her hands and rolled her eyes. “Fine, just make sure it’s all put back. It’s probably a bunch of BS anyway though, I mean how are a pair of glasses going to help you read any faster?”

 

“Dunno, Sam hasn’t had much of a chance to really test them out yet.” Smiling, Lucy rose out of the pile of gear. “Then again, this is probably some kind of medical test, and she’s more focused on what she says are physics and engineering.”

 

Pichon nodded. “Yeah, you’ll find a lot of that around here. C’mon, put it all back and let’s get moving.”

 

Ten minutes after Lucy had neatly stacked the gear again and cheerily waved to the RAF man on duty (Who could only bemusedly wave back at the busty blonde happily jogging out of his duty station), the two were back in Pichon’s car and off across the base. Driving through the base, Pichon decided to break the silence. “So. Magic. Is it useful?”

 

Lucy pondered the question. “I’m not sure what you mean by that actually.”

 

“Here we only see magic in stories, used to defeat dragons or raise the dead for zombie armies. No one apparently thinks to use it to do things like turn rocks into gold or investigate murders.” Pichon chuckled. “Maybe you people actually make use of it?”

 

Lucy thought for a moment. “Actually, the majority of people back in my universe don’t have magic. The ones that do are organized into guilds, and the only people that are an authority over those are the Magic Council.”

 

Pichon laughed. “My God, there’s even a bureaucracy for magic? _Mon dieu_ , how is that possible?”

 

Lucy shrugged. “I guess the only way I can explain it is that A is A.”

 

Pichon mulled over the phrase as she drove. “So no matter the place, some things are the same.”

 

Lucy smiled. “Exactly! See, there really isn’t that much of a difference between us after all.”

 

Pichon shook her head. “Girl, there is a _world_ of difference between us. For a start, I don’t have a bunch of freaks at my beck and call.”

 

Lucy huffed. “Hey, they aren’t freaks to me. They’re my spirits, and I don’t like it that you’re insulting them.”

 

Pichon gave a side glance at Lucy. “You’re telling me you made a deal with a giant cow and a crab-man for them to be your slaves?”

 

“They aren’t slaves.” Lucy spoke with a firm tone that didn’t take the insult lightly. “They’re my friends, and every one of them chose to become my spirits. You’re lucky I didn’t take my keys with me too, or I’d have one of them here to have some words with you.”

 

“And gotten, as Trace would say, your ass chewed for doing so at all.” Pichon pulled up to Rainbow’s offices. “Just get up there and get reading. Hopefully those things will actually be useful like you say and we can start to make sense of this mess.”

 

Lucy gave a wink and a thumbs up. “Just leave it to me, I’ll show you what the MVTF is capable of.” Leaping out of the car, Pichon shook her head and walked in behind her. Handling the ID card and getting upstairs, Pichon saw Lucy stride with pride over to Porter and Kateb and the large pile of papers they stood over. “Okay, I’ve got my glasses and I’m all set to go to work.”

 

Both men looked at Lucy with a mix of amusement and insult. “Suddenly you’re a doctor too,” Porter said, chuckling darkly. “Skip away little girl, this is work for grown-ups.”

 

Kateb quickly stepped in front of Porter with a kinder smile. “My dear, I understand that you wish to assist us but these files are of a medical nature. We appreciate that you’re willing to jump in and get your hands dirty as it were, but I fear you won’t be able to understand any of what we have here.”

 

Lucy’s face softened. “Oh, well, what can I help with?”

 

“Here,” Streicher said, shoving a pile of reports into Lucy’s hands. “Witness statements from the survivors and from responding officers. Find the common threads, note them, and see what you can make sense of. If you need help, ask and don’t try to make it seem like you understand something you don’t.”

 

Lucy quickly regained her balance under the weight of the reports, and with a determined grin found a desk and set the reports down. Smiling she grabbed a pen and notepad from the desk, flipped her glasses open, and got to reading.

 

“That was rather rude,” Kateb said quietly to Streicher. “She’s just a girl, you didn’t need to hand her all those.”

 

“Better she learns now,” Porter said, still smiling. “She wants to act like she’s already in her big girl knickers, she has to learn what that brings with it.”

 

“I don’t know, she’s got a drive to her,” Pichon said, picking up one of the files. “You should have heard her when I asked about her slaves, she still thinks they’re her friends and…” Pichon stopped at the sound of paper rapidly being turned over and saw Lucy already done with several reports and hurriedly scribbling down notes next to the pile. “ _Mon Dieu._ ”

 

All of Rainbow started to stop and take notice. Lucy was tearing through reports at rate of three a minute, her notepad quickly filling up with scribbles and arrows pointing to different ideas concerning the incident. Rainbow looked at each other trying to comprehend what they were seeing, waiting for someone to let them in on the joke.

 

Suddenly Lucy flipped the last report closed and grinned, taking off her glasses. “Got it. It looks like they arrived between classes, using several typical rental trucks. They unloaded and sped away, my guess is that we’ll have to look for additional evidence to try and find where they were rented from. From what I can tell the initial reactions of shock gave them long enough to deploy the sprayer systems, the only reason they got on campus at all was some lie about being there to set up for some kind of campus event coming that weekend involving ‘Greek Week’. Security let them through, but I think there might have been some money involved since they’re the only ones to mention anything about it compared to everyone else noting how strange it was to see those trucks driving right up on to the grass. My best guess is that however these guys got onto the campus, they had to have plenty of money and time to make this happen. Which doesn’t make sense, because they had to have known you were all about to arrive there. So I’m wondering if the real goal wasn’t to try and lure you all out into the open and kill at least some of you.”

 

Rainbow stared at Lucy, some with mouths agape and others with sad eyes. Baker stomped over and snatched the notepad from Lucy’s hands, reading it over himself before tossing it back onto the desk and flipping through several of the files. “Jesus lads, she’s not wrong.”

 

Streicher pointed at the pile of files. “But that was at least forty witness reports, that’s impossible!”

 

Lucy twirled the glasses in her hand with a grin. “Not with these bad boys it isn’t.”

 

Baker snatched the glasses away and put them on, the dark red stylized design clashing with his short graying hair and tanned, edged features. “I’ll judge that.” Flipping the reports open, Baker started to read. “Alright, when’s it supposed to work girlie?”

 

Lucy snatched the glasses away. “What are you talking about? They work fine.” Grabbing the files again, Lucy started reading and scribbling down names. “See? It works fine for me.”

 

Baker snatched the glasses back and started scanning one of the reports. “What are you talking about? These are fakes, I could read faster if I I’d lost one eye.”

 

Lucy looked at glasses and puzzled for a moment. “Maybe it’s because you aren’t magic users. Every wizard in Fiore can use them, but you’re not wizards and can’t use magic after all.”

 

“No, really, I had no idea.” It wasn’t the words, but the utterly deadpan delivery from Fuze that got the other operators chuckling.

 

Inside Ash’s office, O’Neill shook his head at the scene through the glass wall. “Oh, those kids are in for a long few days.”

 

“None of this makes sense,” Carter said, throwing down a file regarding the White Mask attack on the French consulate in Côte d'Ivoire. “There’s no ideological underpinning, no sign of any leadership, it’s like these people just spring up at random and wreak havoc for no reason other than to cause terror. Hasn’t anyone put two and two together to find anything?”

 

“As near as we can tell they function in methods similar to groups like the Red Army Faction and _Action directe_. Primarily urban, operating on a cell-based structure but with an organizational quality unlike anything we’ve seen. They’re training and equipment mark them above any other terrorist group in Western Europe, and their use of suicide bombers is something we couldn’t anticipate. We’ve _never_ seen any Western group utilize suicide attackers in any action before them.”

 

“Perhaps their knowledge of what your group did in Brazil has motivated them to not risk being taken,” Teal’c observed, sitting in a chair with his legs crossed as he slowly absorbed one of the files. “Fear of this group which kills anyone who opposes them is a strong motivation to ensure they are not taken alive should they fail.”

 

“That’s what doesn’t make sense,” Cohen said, leaning back and stretching out her arms. “The majority of European and American terrorists always plan on escaping, suicide operations are only made when they’re cornered or have a backup plan for something else at the same time. Typically the only terrorist groups that utilize suicide tactics are Islamic extremists and sometimes militant Buddhist groups. Any Western group utilizing suicide tactics is changing the game in a fundamental way.”

 

O’Neill spoke without looking up from his file. “The militia movement and IRA are quiet?”

 

“No more than usual,” Cohen said dismissively. “The IRA and unionists are still sniping each other in Belfast and claiming the other side is trying to break the peace, back home the militias are pretty much underground now. A lot of FBI and ATF raids broke their backs, they’re a joke compared to what’s coming out of South America and Africa. The evidence has really thrown us all for a loop trying to piece it together.”

 

O’Neill groaned. “So as I try to recall my memories of the book, didn’t there wind up being one guy Rainbow managed to capture in Australia?”

 

Cohen tapped at her computer. “There was, but he died in prison three years ago, suicide.”

 

“So much for that then,” O’Neill groaned. “It’s obvious, it’s someone in a high position of power using their money and authority to shield the White Masks from being found and unifying the groups under their leadership and using them to either advance their position or seek some kind of revenge.” Everyone stared at O’Neill for a good few seconds. “Look, Clancy had his moments, but you could see his plots coming a mile away.”

 

Cohen groaned. “That’s not what I’m about to base my initial report to Six on O’Neill. I can’t just go to her and say that I’m basing my suspicions on the fact that to you we’re characters in a fucking book series. And can we not acknowledge that from now on? It’s fucking messing with my head.”

 

O’Neill shrugged. “Look, that’s how I’m handling this okay? I mean it’s just so obvious, there’s gotta be someone out there able to make a play like this and has a reason to do it, it’s totally formulaic.”

 

“Well this isn’t one of those books O’Neill,” Cohen said, glaring at the colonel. “We have actual intelligence that points in a dozen different directions for this attack alone.”

 

“We can at least start by ruling some parties out though, right?” Carter tried to head off O’Neill from saying anything else. “Since the Russians are on good terms with the US that rules them out.”

 

“We can rule out China too,” Cohen said flatly. “Their little border war with the Russians reminded them that the world hasn’t changed that much, they’re focusing on rebuilding their economy and seeing about negotiating with Hong Kong to end the special region status of the city. They won’t risk rebuilding their current international relations on wreaking terrorist attacks across the globe, and especially not with the Russian Army still standing on the border with a finger on the trigger.”

 

“Cross them off,” Carter said, thinking. “Has there been any kind of shakeup within Russia though? I remember that the last b-report I read, there were reforms being made in the Russian government. Maybe someone internally didn’t like that?”

 

Cohen thought for a moment. “The SVR has been feeling constrained by the Russian presidency, the current government has been giving greater autonomy to Chechnya and are trying to ease the force of the Russian presence on the CIS. It’s almost becoming a rival to the EU in terms of mineral rights and fossil fuels.”

 

Teal’c looked over. “I am unfamiliar with these terms, SVR and CIS?”

 

“Commonwealth of Independent States,” Cohen said. “After the Union collapsed Russia reformed their old republics to the South into an economic bloc to rival Europe’s. So far they’re making bank leasing mining and oil rights in exchange for economic development. As for the Federal Security Service, they’re roughly Russia’s CIA equivalent. They’re the ones charged with the nation’s international intelligence activities and espionage.”

 

O’Neill looked up in surprise. “Wait, so now we are suspecting the Russians? Someone make up their minds huh? What’s the story, left hand-right hand?”

 

Cohen was starting to think now, wheels turning over and over the intelligence she already knew. “I’ll call Six. Colonel, you get to meet the president.”

 

Cohen moved outside, telling everyone to quit arguing over whether or not the glasses worked and to focus on the task at hand. O’Neill shook his head clear with a grin. “So, anyone else want Harrison Ford’s autograph?”


	7. Chapter 6: Politics

**Chapter 6: Politics**

 

Jack groaned, barely standing as he and Erza moved behind him off the plane into Dulles International. Looking over his shoulder, Campbell laughed. “C’mon, it’s not like you’re on another planet.”

 

O’Neill smiled back and sniped, “Usually my trips only take a second. It’s been a while since I flew this often.”

 

“I admit, I’m feeling a little tired myself,” Erza said, stretching out as she kept up next to Trace. “Is this what they call time zones? How does it make sense to travel such a great distance when you can’t even stay awake to get anything done?”

 

“You people literally have the ability to bend reality over and make it your bitch,” Trace said flatly. “And you’re both KO’d by jetlag?”

 

O’Neill barely stifled a yawn. “The travel time for planets and dimensions is a lot less intensive.”

 

Campbell shook his head. “Anyway, we’ll get you both some new suits. Can’t show up to the big show looking like…” Campbell shrugged. “Well, you just gotta look nicer.”

 

O’Neill shook his head. “The quip training has suffered here.”

 

Erza nodded. “A grave injustice.”

 

Grabbing some coffee, O’Neill followed the agents to the exit to find two cars and a limo waiting. Campbell smiled, opening the back of one of them. “Enjoy the ride.”

 

O’Neill stopped. “Oh, now you think you’re clever.” Shaking his head, O’Neill settled in to see a woman glaring at him and Erza from the back of the limo. “Well if you aren’t Six, you’re doing a damn fine impression.”

 

“Col. O’Neill, Ms. Scarlet.” The woman nodded as the cars pulled away from the curb. “You’re right, I am the current Six for Team Rainbow. A pleasure to finally meet you both in person.”

 

“Ma’am.” Erza nodded respectfully. “May I ask why you had us flown to Washington?”

 

“The president, and by extension the entire nation is concerned by these attacks. The entire national security apparatus has been turned to hunting down and neutralizing those responsible. Your arrival, and your knowledge, have the potential to turn a lot of heads. Many in a direction we do not want them going.” Six flipped open a dossier and started reading. “I looked up your name. Col. Jack O’Neill. Served in the Air Force, operated with distinction in several classified operations, many which are considered compromising to national security and therefore are considered to be indefinitely withheld from release pending review in another fifty years.” Six looked up at O’Neill without any trace or clue of what she might be thinking. “Died in an Iraqi prison in 1990.”

 

O’Neill took a long gulp. “Well, uh, that would explain a few-”

 

“As for Erza Scarlet, we did an extensive bit of digging.” Six turned to the wizard. “We couldn’t find any history, no records of employment, no social media footprint.”

 

O’Neill looked up. “The hell’s social media-“

 

“Until we decided that we had nothing to lose and performed a Google search.” Six took out a single sheet of paper. “Somehow, we found this.”

 

Erza looked down on the image and gasped. It was her and Gray, standing before a picture of Natsu and Erigor, former member of Eisenwald. “How…How did…”

 

“Seems the knife cuts both ways,” Six said flatly. “That is a Japanese comic series to us. It took us a while to find it, but when one of my nephews who likes that kind of entertainment confirmed it. He thinks you’re just a very skilled ‘cosplayer’.” Taking the image back, Six read through some more. “Tell me, when did you first encounter SG-1?”

 

Erza tried to recover herself. “Uh, we met on Tenrou Island, it was during our S-class-“ Six was crossing out several parts of a paper. “What are you doing?”

 

“Everything after that is no longer useful intelligence,” Six said. “Seeing as Col. O’Neill and his team went bullrushing through the multiverse, we can’t count on the intelligence we thought we had.”

 

O’Neill had his turn. “Intelligence? Do you see any intelligence in front of you lady?”

 

“If it’s true, and in your world we’re all part of a series of novels, it’s only reasonable to utilize the same resource for our own ends. If _Fairy Tail_ is any indication, we may be able to come to an arrangement.” Six paused. “One thing. I noted that your team had five members, but if I saw correctly you were missing Mr. Dragneel and Happy. Where are they?”

 

Erza looked out the window. “Natsu has had some difficulties in adjusting to the new situations we’ve found ourselves in. There was an incident where he killed many people, and he’s…”

 

“He’s not happy he had to kill some people.” O’Neill’s bluntness didn’t catch Erza off guard, it was just his ability to admit it. “Kid isn’t cut out for this job, so we decided he’d be better off running around back home frying goblins and causing property damage.”

 

“Very well, from what I read that boy would have been a danger.” Finished crossing off the sections of paper, Six looked up and into O’Neill and Erza. “It’s clear that neither one of you however, and I cannot turn down a possible asset that would multiply our national security capabilities. Your actions at Harvard are a clear indication that we cannot ignore this. Much like your organization Rainbow is equipped and suited for a similar mission, multinational cooperation in the face of unconventional and high-level threats. This briefing will make the case to the president that we should be a partial partner in this organization. You’ll both be making your case to him personally.”

 

Erza’s eyes went wide. “The president? That’s your nation’s king correct?”

 

“Precisely.” Six let herself have a little grin at the idea. “Let’s get you both ready.”

* * *

A swift session with some very confused tailors later, Erza and O’Neill were driving up to the home of the most powerful man on this specific world. O’Neill just looked like another besuited old man in a city of them, while Erza looked like someone that had been cast as the beautiful young woman that would be revealed to be the expert in some scientific field that would wind up saving the day while still having perfect hair and not losing her skirt. The gate security waved them through, men and women in suits and uniforms patrolling the perimeter. After the plane attack on the Capital nothing was considered safe anymore.

 

“Remember, let me do most of the talking and don’t do anything rash. This isn’t your world, we don’t play by your rules.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Erza said, grinning as she got out. “Col. O’Neill made it very clear that the rules are always different.” Of course, that grin vanished when she saw the two Marines standing outside the White House doors. Her eyes went wide, and she gazed in awe of the uniforms until O’Neill pulled her away with an annoyed groan. The two lance corporals were too professional to react, but both had the same thought.

 

“ _The hell is with that chick?_ ”

 

The interior of the White House was abuzz with action, staffers and advisors and subject matter experts rushing to and from in the West Wing trying to make sense of what happened. “I’ve got the FBI field office in Boston asking-“ “Statement of support from the Italians-“ “Do we have any more information on that report from Malaysia-“ “No idea how they got those chemicals into the area-“ “Still closed down, if it doesn’t reopen soon-”

 

Erza looked at the flurry of action around her, barely dodging a bald man in a black suit. “I’ve never seen people react this way to something like this. Is it always so panicked?”

 

“Here terrorist attacks are the exception, not the norm.” Six glared back at Erza as they were led to the Oval Office. “I’d advise against bringing that kind of thought process up when you’re in here.”

 

The secretary opened the door, Six leading the way into the office filled with people. Middle-aged men and women, some in suits and some in uniforms, all talking in hushed tones with each other until they went quiet at the entrance of Six. An older man with gray hair and a gaunt face rose from behind the Resolute Desk, smiling as Six walked over. Despite his appearance, his smile was warm and his eyes soft as he rose and held a hand out. “Aurelia, glad to see you again.”

 

Six smiled and shook hands with her commander. “It’s good to be back here sir. Pres. Fairfield, this is Col. O’Neill and Ms. Scarlet. They’re the individuals I knew we had to hear from regarding what happened in Boston.”

 

“In a moment, we’re still waiting on one more.” Pres. Fairfield chuckled, easing himself into the leather chair behind the desk. “He never fails to find the worst traffic to get wrapped up in. In the meantime, your team performed excellently Aurelia. I only skimmed the reports, but the Boston FBI and police said they’d never seen such a swift resolution with such a small team on the point.”

 

Six nodded to the FBI director. “We only chose from the best available Mr. President.”

 

The doors behind them opened, and Pres. Fairfield lit up. “And there he is.”

 

“Sorry, sorry I’m late,” a male voice said, clear and carrying through the room. “Georgetown was a mess, the students are all in a panic right now and I can’t say I blame them.”

 

O’Neill and Erza froze as the door shut. He was about six-foot-tall, clad in a gray suit and red and white tie. His head managed to shine, even in the natural light of the office, and the only hair on his head were his eyebrows and his neatly trimmed goatee. “Adam, glad you could make it on time.”

 

Erza tried not to react, tried to keep her muscles from making her lunge at the man as he walked over smiling. “Aurelia, these are the two specialists you wanted us to speak with?”

 

“They are. Colonel, Ms. Scarlet, this is Adam Kane. National Security Advisor to the president.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you both,” Adam Kane said, shaking their hands. “All I know is that you helped in Boston, but whatever you did I can promise you it’s appreciated.”

 

O’Neill shrugged, playing it off. “Well, you know how it is sir, terrible things to waste and all that, but then I’m not one for clichés.”

 

Adam Kane chuckled. “You’re not wrong sir, not wrong.”

 

“Well, since we’re all situated let’s get to business.” Fairfield looked to the FBI director. “Teddy, anything from your end?”

 

“Nothing domestic, all the usual channels are quiet.” Theodore “Teddy” Trance threw two files onto a table in front of him. “An uptick in questions about false flags, but that’s safe to say is BS.”

 

“International sources?”

 

Director of the Central Intelligence Agency Jacquelyn Parnell shook her head. “No one in any typical terrorist frequency has made any noise in the past year, nothing more than bank robberies and back-alley murders as far as we can tell. NATO allies also haven’t reported anything.”

 

“So we’re left with nothing,” Fairfield said quietly. “Who are these people? I mean what on Earth could they possibly want? Is this the crescendo then?”

 

“Not likely sir,” Adam Kane said, suddenly becoming stone faced as he spoke. “This was simply their first major effort on the international scale. Attacking Harvard with the means and method they did shows everyone that they’re exploiting us, using our recent complacencies to their advantage. After Rainbow’s work the terrorist community simply stopped attempting major attacks, restricted themselves to techniques pre-2000. The White Masks since their first appearances have only just been testing our responses, feeling out for where and when they would make their first major strike.”

 

“Major strike?” Gen. Walter Myer, US Army, looked at Adam Kane in disbelief. “What do you call what happened in Germany, a boating accident?” O’Neill bit his lip, he’d missed his chance to use that line.

 

“No, but it was a test.” Adam Kane gestured to the assembled figures in the room. “All of us are left wondering what their ultimate goal is. Even after the attack we’ve had no claim of responsibility, not accusations or reasons for why there was an attack. Everything we’ve seen points to a group that was either created whole cloth from nothing or was quietly building in the shadow of John Clark’s tenure as DCI, God rest his soul.”

 

Fairfield looked over to Six. “What’s Rainbow’s analysis on this one?”

 

“At the moment we only have the same intelligence sir,” Six said. “However, we may have a new means by which to respond. Col. O’Neill and Ms. Scarlet were both present at Harvard during the attack. Before I continue Mr. President, I need you to please follow me to the end of this explanation.” That earned a few strange and confused looks, but Fairfield nodded. “Mr. President, Col. O’Neill and Ms. Scarlet, along with their companions, did not mean to become embroiled in the situation they now find themselves in. However, their actions saved the lives of two dozen civilians in the library against an enemy Rainbow and the best law enforcement and counter-terrorist organizations on the planet have struggled against.”

 

“Because they are not from our planet.”

 

The assembled officers and directors all looked at each other, trying to process the statement as Six bulldozed through. “Sir, we have now a resource no other administration in history has ever imagined. The ability to utilize means of attack and defense that were fantasies just yesterday. Ms. Scarlet? You may demonstrate.”

 

Erza nodded, stepping in front of the president. Shutting her eyes, she focused her abilities and in a flash now had several plates of armor on her body. “Mr. President, I am Erza Scarlet of the wizard guild Fairy Tail.”

 

The room was silent, even the Secret Service agents were lost for an answer as to what they were seeing. Erza turned to the assembled leaders and bowed her head. “I am also part of the Multiversal Task Force, a coalition of groups from nine dimensions banded together for mutual defense and discovery. We possess magic, advanced technologies, and the perspectives of vastly different, yet similar experiences.”

 

Pres. Fairfield was breathing heavily, slowly rising and walking around the desk. The agents started to move but he waved them off. “Someone, get your phone out and take a picture of this.” Several of the leaders did so, taking out their smart phones as the president stood before Erza. “On behalf of the United States of America, and I would suppose our own dimension, I wish to offer our friendship and hospitality.” Forcing a smile despite his shock, Fairfield offered his hand.

 

Erza smiled as she took it. “I’m humbled to accept such kindness, Mr. President.”

 

Fairfield smiled, shaking off the shock a little. “So, Col. O’Neill, that means you’re really a colonel then? Do you have any kind of…’special ability’ as well?”

 

“I do have an innate talent for ticking off the right people sir,” O’Neill said with a smile. “Sir, we usually try to keep ourselves more covert, we didn’t mean to do what we did but-”

 

“No, don’t talk like that. If you hadn’t acted there might not have been any survivors on Harvard Yard that day.” Fairfield nodded, walking back to his seat and letting out a breath. “Anyone who wants to leave, now’s the time to do it.” No one moved, but they all did keep staring at Erza. “Very well. I don’t want to hear any bitching about this later. Now, Aurelia, you have a proposition then?”

 

“Mr. Kane is right, the White Masks will keep striking until we finally end their leadership. Sir, I propose that Team Rainbow become part of this task force as a partial affiliate. Seeing as we have more than our share of problems here, we will only be called on in the gravest circumstances. Never a full team deployment unless we can confirm it is absolutely necessary.”

 

Gen. Myer waved his hands before him. “No, not a chance, you’re saying we should just go sending the worlds top CTU into God-knows where? We can’t do that, never mind trying to explain this one to our allies and the Russians.”

 

O’Neill perked up. “Thought the Russians were our allies now.”

 

Myers stumbled but quickly recovered. “Colonel, you may be some kind of explorer, but this is a different matter. I mean how do we even begin to make contingencies for this? I mean if this is proof of some kind of multiverse as Ms. Scarlet said, what else is out there? There’s no way to prepare for something like this, anything like this. We might as well just call the game and go home if we can’t be ready for what’s out there.”

 

As Erza puzzled over the phrase, O’Neill walked forward. “General, as much as I appreciate the sentiment I must argue on two points. We’ve had the unexpected and unimaginable happen to us all the time and we’ve constantly managed to succeed against it. Second, that cliché is just so inappropriate to throw out against someone who’s never heard it before.”

 

Pres. Fairfield started drumming his fingers on his desk. “Aurelia, do you think that the probability of an attack involving these kinds of ‘situations’ is likely?”

 

Six nodded. “Their arrival here was a complete accident, Mr. President. Who knows what else may be out there waiting.”

 

Fairfield nodded. “Very well. Col. O’Neill, from this moment I’m authorizing that the United States will work with the…United States.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “The grammar comes eventually sir, just needs practice. I have a four-week course if you want.”

 

“Aurelia, I know you have enough on your plate, but if you can I want you to take the lead on this. Do you think Rainbow can be our interface with this task force?”

 

“I feel that Rainbow is the most capable group to cooperate with this organization sir.” Aurelia rose and walked over to the desk. “I’ve taken the liberty to write up a memo outlining our plan for this sir, once you’ve had the chance to review it and make your own recommendations we can begin acting on it immediately.”

 

Fairfield blinked, taking the memo in-hand and scanning it. “This is, this is rather well put-together Aurelia.”

 

“It’s only a temporary fix sir, a joint Senate-House committee will have to review it.”

 

Erza leaned over to O’Neill. “Does this mean another hearing?” O’Neill shuddered.

 

Fairfield looked to his senior leadership. “Well, if no one can think of any reasonable objections?” Everyone present just stared at the document. “Very well. I want State to begin working on a plan for how we can break this news to the other heads of state contributing at the next G20 summit. Have the British, French, and Germans made aware of a new development immediately. I’ll speak with Pres. Kuznetsov and alert him to a new advancement.” Bringing back his small smile, Fairfield turned to O’Neill. “Well sir, I think you’ve found a world with more trouble than it’s worth.” O’Neill and Erza shared a look.

 

The various secretaries and officers spread out and moved for the door. Adam Kane waited until the room was empty and doors shut to step forward. “Well, that’s quite the story GACK!”

 

Erza grabbed the advisor by the throat and glared the man down as the Secret Service agents inside the room drew their weapons. “What’s your plan Kane? Why bother playing with us?”

 

Adam Kane clutched at Erza’s wrist, agents circling the wizard as he desperately choked out an answer. “I…URK! I’d tell you if I knew! Please let me go!”

 

“Not a chance chrome dome,” O’Neill said, stepping forward as Six and Pres. Fairfield watched in shock. “There’s only need for one bald leader with us, and he’s busy worrying about what stupid crap we’re gonna bring back with us when we give our report.”

 

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Fairfield rushed around the desk motioning for the agents to lower their weapons. “Please, Ms. Scarlet, whatever’s happening can surely be explained!”

 

“Not a problem sir, we know how to handle this.” O’Neill took Adam Kane from Erza and threw him onto the nearest sofa. “Okay you bastard, where’s the rest of the Brotherhood?”

 

Adam Kane looked around in terror and confusion. “What are you talking about? What brotherhood, what are you doing? Did I somehow offend you both? Please, whatever I did, I’m sorry!”

 

Erza stopped, looking hard into the man’s eyes. “O’Neill, this isn’t him.”

 

Six stormed up to O’Neill. “Would you like to explain what the _hell_ is going on?”

 

“Mistaken identity,” Erza answered. “My guild once experienced a similar incident in an alternate universe where those we knew were not themselves, where we even _met_ the dark copies our ourselves. I believe that Mr. Adam Kane is simply an alternate copy of the man we’re more associated with. Are you alright sir?”

 

Kane threw a thumbs up as he rubbed at his throat. “Fine, just, I suppose I’ve got a lot to get used to.”

 

Erza backed down, sending her armor away. “I’m so sorry sir, please don’t let this affect our efforts.”

 

Fairfield nodded, settling back into his seat. “Apology accepted, Ms. Scarlet. Adam, you need a doctor?”

 

Adam Kane shook his head. “No, but a stiff drink probably would help.”

 

Fairfield grumbled, “That makes two of us.”

 

“I’ll take them back to Hereford sir,” Six said, motioning for O’Neill and Erza to move for the door under the glares of the Secret Service. “We’ll refine the plan and wait for your orders. Given the evidence we’ve just shown I don’t believe there will be any difficulty in convincing the other G20 leaders to agree that Rainbow should be our interface.”

 

Fairfield nodded, agents following the trio out the door as the president and Adam Kane were left alone. Blowing out some air Fairfield leaned back. “This is a helluva way to enter the midterms Adam.”

 

Adam Kane nodded, shaking out his cobwebs as he tried to come down from being strangled. “That’s a hell of a grip on that girl. Christ, wherever she’s from they build their people to last.”

 

“Well be thankful she’s gone through this before.” Fairfield shuddered and reached into the desk. Sighing, he pulled up a glass of Scotch from one of Scotland’s oldest distilleries and two shot glasses. “Join me?”

 

Adam Kane smiled, walking over to the desk. “From Allentown to the multiverse. Your biographers are gonna tear their hair out sir.”

* * *

Six slammed the door hard as she got into the limo. “What the hell were you trying to accomplish in there?”

 

Erza’s head was held low as the cars rolled on. “I’m sorry ma’am.”

 

“You have no idea what sorry is,” Six growled. “Be thankful I still consider the benefits of this operation to outweigh the risks.”

 

“Look, did you see the suit that guy was wearing? I wanted to deck him when he walked in the door, at least Erza had the decency to wait.” O’Neill shrugged and leaned into his seat. “I mean hell, I figured we did a public service in there.”

 

Six turned her glare on O’Neill. “I would love to understand how what just happened in there was a public service.”

 

“Well we just told anyone who might already be here from the multiverse to be careful or else Erza’s gonna show them what life can be like without oxygen.” O’Neill patted Erza on the back. “I get it, we messed up, but if you wanted to leave an impression on them then you just got it.”

 

“I wanted them to appreciate the severity of this development yes,” Six said, not breaking her glare on O’Neill. “I didn’t want them to fear being assaulted by invaders from another universe. Be thankful Pres. Fairfield is a man who prefers to think before acting. Unlike either one of you.”

 

O’Neill mimed pain. “Ah, you know you could really hurt a guy with put downs like that.”

* * *

Cohen and Cowden watched as SG-1 and MV-1 collected their gear and prepared to leave for home from behind the Rainbow headquarters. Cowden grinned as the visitors put on their bracelets. “Well hopefully this will be the last we see of you for some time, but we are thankful for the information you already gave us. We’ll set the Boston FBI on the evidence we already have, but thanks to Ms. Lucy’s help we have a better idea of what to tell them to look for.”

 

Lucy grinned and gave Cowden a thumbs up. “If you ever need any more help feel free to call, this is great material for my novel.”

 

“We’ll send who we can if the situation warrants it,” Cohen said. “No offense, but I hope we don’t have to go.”

 

“Hey, you haven’t lived until you’ve fought a dragon.” O’Neill waved as the teams started to disappear back to the SGC.

 

When the last of the visitors were gone, Cowden and Cohen sighed and started walking back to Rainbow’s HQ. “So. Now we have to worry about interdimensional threats.” Cowden shook his head. “How on Earth do we develop a protocol for this?”

 

“Well from what I just saw, the multiverse is filled with people.” Cohen smiled as she held the door to the building. “My dad used to love the _Twilight Zone_ , and you know what I learned from that show?”

 

Cowden smiled as he walked past. “What’s that?”

 

Cohen let the door swing shut behind her. “People are alike all over.”


	8. Epilogue: Another Day

**Epilogue**

 

The monitor saw his screen light up with a new message. A priority for his superiors. Rushing for the hall, he ran for the upper floors after printing out the material. The Americans and Chinese both had become experts in digital infiltration, meaning that the SVR still did things the old-fashioned way in-house.

 

The secretary outside the door of the office of the agency’s executive was about to tell the monitor off when the monitor shoved the printout into the secretary’s face. The secretary went silent, and quickly opened the door.

 

Valeri Volodin looked up from his meeting to see the two walk in and was about to launch off on a brutal tirade when he was given the message. Settling into his seat, he dismissed the majority of the people inside. “Gentlemen, we have information on a new American project related to the NATO Rainbow program. Our sources within the FSB?”

 

“Restricted,” one of the men replied. “Our efforts to infiltrate their operations within Rainbow have been cut off by Minister Kovalyov’s actions to seal any and all leaks that aren’t approved.”

 

Volodin shook his head. “SOLOVEY can only get us so much it appears, the information is too valuable to transmit by our typical means as before. What resources do we have that can transmit this kind of information without NATO or the Chinese becoming aware?”

 

“BEZUPRECHNAYA VED'MA is still operational sir,” another man said. “BLAZHENNYY KOROL is also coming up to activation as well.” “Excellent,” Volodin said, making his fingers a steeple before his face. “Gentlemen, we must make adjustments to these operations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So I hope you're enjoying these stories, and if you are PLEASE don't feel like a comment is unwarranted. Tell me what you like, what you dislike, tell me how I'm doing so I can make you a better story!


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